


A Story In Which Your Bad Decisions Introduce You To Some New Assholes

by wildappleblossoms



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, HorrorTale, I love me some sexual tension, I'm a sailer, Jealous Skeletons, Knotting, Lots of bad words, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Soulmates, Mutual Pining, Possibly more AUs in the future, Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader is named, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Some hot and heavy stuff too, Soulmates, Swapfell, Underfell, Unrequited Love, alcohol and bad decisions, dusttale, i don't know yet, i don't really know what i'm doing, i love fluff so much, soulbond, underswap - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25743178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildappleblossoms/pseuds/wildappleblossoms
Summary: A drunken night you can't remember leads you to wake up in the very large home of a very large family of skeletons. You try to walk away and pretend like nothing ever happened, but you run into them again, and in even worse circumstances.Being the kind monsters they are, they can't resist helping you, even if it means doing it behind your back. How the hell are you ever going to pay them back for coming to your rescue like this?You've got a lot of bones to suck.*Inspired by Skeletons in Heat by TheMsource
Relationships: Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 89
Kudos: 248





	1. Bad Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Skeletons in Heat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17887193) by [TheMsource](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMsource/pseuds/TheMsource). 



The sound of birds chirping paired with unfamiliar snoring wakes you from your deep sleep. Your eyes open to see the first light of daybreak struggle to shine through heavy curtains, the strange room barely illuminated enough for you to take in your surroundings.

_Fuuuuuuuuck._

You groan, and sit up in bed, trying to feel around for your glasses. _Too fast, too fast!_ Your hand pauses in its search to grasp your head. Definitely one of the top ten worst hangovers you've had. After the room stops spinning and you find your glasses, you pray you still have some aspirin in your purse to wolf down.

The body next to you shifts, but continues snoring. He's probably a heavy sleeper, you muse, feeling around the nightstand beside you. Luckily, your drunk self was smart enough to make them easy to find this time.

After putting on your glasses, you take in your surroundings. What a wreck. There are clothes, pizza boxes, takeout containers, and what looks like math homework strewn about the floor. A punching bag is laid flat on the floor with dust and a small pile of white powder on it. A glance up at the hole in the ceiling suggests that it probably fell down, and no one had bothered to hang it back up or move it out of the way.

_Oh god. It's another frat boy._

You crinkle your nose in disgust, and not because of the funky smell coming from the pile of socks and half eaten Taco Bell. Didn’t you tell yourself to stop messing around with the guys at the university? You can do better than this. You have standards.

You untangle your legs from the heavy blanket, careful not to disturb your _sleeping partner_ because god only knows how much you don’t want to look your mistake in the eyes. As your feet hit the floor, you hear a crunch, and you feel something smush against your sock.

_Ohmygodsogross_

You take your socks off, and leave them there. You’re pretty sure he won’t notice the extra pair, and even if he did, it probably won’t be for at least a month or two. You spot your shoes over by the door with the rest of your clothes, which wasn’t as difficult as you’d assumed it would be. Luckily, you wore bright “business casual” clothes to the bar last night instead of your usual dark hoodies, having gone straight there after work. You’re probably going to have to burn them when you get home.

Successfully managing to avoid any more mysterious piles of gooey substances, you quietly rush to them and shimmy them on as fast as you can, grabbing your purse from the top of the dresser as you go. Not even pausing to take one last glance back at your one night stand, you immediately open the door the second you’re decent.

...Right into the face of a tall, deadly looking skeleton.

_“Jesusfuckingahhhhh!!”_

Your scream startles the leather clad monster, who quickly moves their arms into a defensive position, which is fair, considering the mistreatment they’ve received from humans the past four years. But considering his intimidating attire, the two facial scars, and domineering aura, he probably doesn’t have much to fear from them.

The skeleton man adjusts himself, bringing his arms back down to his side and places them on his hip bones. Somehow, despite knowing that there isn’t any flesh beneath his “skin” tight leather pants, you think you see something of a shape there. Perhaps he has to use magic to keep them up by projecting the shape of flesh.

“OH. YOU MUST BE ONE OF MY BROTHER’S _LATE NIGHT COHORTS._ IS YOUR CANOODLING DONE THEN? IS IT SAFE TO ENTER THE ROOM?”

You ignore his blatant disgust at your transgressions because hey, you’re not too proud of yourself either. You shuffle forward, signalling politely for him to step aside and let you leave. He does not.

“Yep, we’re all done. He’s still asleep. It’s the perfect time for me to escape,” you say, signalling again for your release. The skeleton does not move.

“INDEED IT IS. HOWEVER, I’M FEELING EVER SO GENEROUS THIS MORNING AFTER MY BIG PROMOTION, AND I WOULD LIKE TO INVITE YOU TO BREAKFAST. I MADE FAR TOO MUCH IN MY EXCITEMENT.” His teeth and jawbone move into what you think is supposed to be a smile, but it comes off as slightly threatening. “ALSO, MY BROTHER WILL WHINE ALL DAY IF YOU LEAVE BEFORE HE WAKES UP. I FIND THAT IRRITATING.”

“Am I allowed to decline?”

“YOU ARE NOT.”

Your hair is a mess, you need to brush your teeth, and your clothes have a slight _dude_ smell to them from having sat in this monster’s brother’s room all night. Not to mention you don’t have any socks on. You really can’t stand it when you’re not wearing any socks. How dare you let your feet calluses touch the inside of your shoes. You don’t even like them touching air. You just want to get the walk of shame over with before people start waking up and wandering about.

“Then I’d be happy to join you and your brother for breakfast,” you say, cringing. You just can’t say no, can you? Maybe if you’re lucky, he’ll leave you alone long enough for you to make a dash for it. You can’t feel guilty if you never see him again.

The skeleton man looks over your body, as if assessing you. He sneers at what he sees, and you shrug. Yeah. Fair.

“THERE IS A BATHROOM DOWN THE HALL WITH A SHOWER. I WILL FETCH YOU SOME CLOTHES. BE QUICK, THE FOOD IS GETTING COLDER AS WE SPEAK.” He points down the hallway, which you just now notice is fairly lengthy, with five doors including the one you’re standing in. “THE LAST ONE ON THE LEFT.”

You nod your head in thanks, and he moves to release you. You have to walk slowly to keep from agitating your pounding headache, but you make it to the bathroom without much difficulty. As you open the door, you glance back into the hallway to find it vacant. Muffled shouts come from where you believe you just exited. Yikes. And to think, you were about five minutes away from receiving the rude awakening along with him. Whoever he is.

He’s probably another skeleton, you figure as you close the bathroom door behind you and begin taking your clothes off. You’ve only hooked up with a monster a few times before, at least, as far as you remember. You have a tendency to drink past your limit and wake up in unfamiliar places with people you usually don’t recognize.

If you’re gonna keep dealing with all the shit that comes with hangovers and morning afters, shouldn’t you at least get to remember the sex?

After your shower, having used one of the many products in the caddy to lather up, you step out from behind the curtain to find that someone has placed a towel and a pair of shorts and t-shirt on the counter. Amazingly, the clothes fit. They’re a little big, but it can’t be helped. You still have to wear your bra from last night, but you forgo the underwear in favor of going commando. There are few things that feel yuckier than putting on used panties after a shower. You have to brush your teeth with your finger, but luckily, they have toothpaste. You’re forced to use your fingers to comb through your hair, though.

You feel pretty… Okay. Clean enough to eat breakfast with strangers.

A knock on the door sounds just before you reach to open it. “HUMAN? EDGE HAS INFORMED ME THAT YOU ARE GOING TO JOIN US FOR BREAKFAST,” the voice beyond the door is just as loud as the one belonging to the skeleton from before, but is much more pleasant. Is this the voice of the brother you slept with last night? “DO THE CLOTHES FIT YOU OKAY? WE HAVE OTHER SIZES IF YOU NEED THEM.”

You open the door, revealing another skeleton of similar height to the previous one, Edge, but much less intense. Gone is the dark outfit, sharp teeth, and irritable atmosphere. This skeleton is much more friendly in appearance, with a scarf and a cute shirt that says “cool dude” written in permanent marker. You like him immediately.

“Yes, they fit fine,” you say, stepping out into the hallway when he moves to give you the room. “You must be Edge’s brother?”

He shakes his head. “I’M HIS COUSIN. KIND OF. IT’S DIFFICULT.” He looks away, and a droplet of orange tinted liquid appears at the top of his skull, which you think may be sweat. Magic sweat, because bones don’t have sweat glands. Human skeletons, anyway.

You nod your head in acknowledgment. “Families can be difficult,” you say in response. You’re not surprised that this isn’t the guy you slept with. You don’t usually attract such nice guys when you’re drunk. You mostly just flirt with losers.

“INDEED. BUT IT IS OKAY! WE MAKE IT WORK! WE SKELETONS ARE STRONG MONSTERS, AFTER ALL!”

His enthusiasm is contagious, and you can’t help but give him a smile in return. He takes your clothes from the previous night, and leads you down the stairs at the other end of the hall, excitedly talking about the history of skeleton monsters, which is apparently a rare species of monster. You notice before you descend that there is another set of stairs next to this one, and it makes you wonder… just how big is this house? Maybe you’re just used to living in a more lower income environment, but it’s not often that you encounter homes with more than two floors. Do a lot of people live here?

Your question is met with an answer when you reach the bottom and turn a corner into a rather large dining area. Seated at a large, dark wooden table is an entire clan of skeletons, half of whom look groggy and barely awake. They must have been dragged out of bed as well.

“That’s a whole lot of family,” you say to the skeleton beside you, who’d introduced himself as Papyrus.

“YES! THERE ARE ELEVEN SKELETONS LIVING HERE, INCLUDING MY BROTHER AND I.” His eye sockets move in a way that would remind you of eye rolling, if he had eyes. “HOWEVER, THREE OF THEM DO NOT BOTHER TO SHOW UP FOR BREAKFAST. NOR ANY OTHER MEAL. NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY TO GET THEM TO COME.”

Edge walks into the room from what you presume is the kitchen, carrying large plates topped with pancakes, bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns. Your mouth waters, and your stomach growls. When was the last time you even bothered to eat breakfast?

Papyrus leads you to a seat near the head of the table, and sits next to you. On his other side, a skeleton in a blue hoodie is fast asleep. On your opposite side sits a skeleton in a white t-shirt and blue bandana, with lights in his eye sockets that remind you of stars. He talks excitedly with another skeleton in an orange hoodie that looks like Papyrus, but with much less energy. You find him adorable, and eagerly introduce yourself to him.

“Why hello, I’m Anna! What’s your name, little guy?”

The stars leave his eyes as he turns around to look at you. Despite having seen other skeletons with light-less sockets, the loss of the light in his sockets is unsettling. You shiver, feeling goosebumps raise on your arms. **“What Did You Just Say?”**

“Uh…” you stammer, looking to Papyrus for help. He’s busy talking to Edge, offering to help distribute food, and doesn’t see you struggling.

“my bro’s not a kid, if that’s what you’re wondering,” the orange clad skeleton beside him says. “you know, about what you said that pissed him off.”

His brother’s eyelights return, and he grins wide. “DON’T BE ABSURD! I’M NOT UPSET. IT IS… A RATIONAL ASSUMPTION. YES, A COMMON MISCONCEPTION! I WON’T LET THIS GET IN THE WAY OF OUR BUDDING FRIENDSHIP! AFTER ALL, WE’VE ONLY JUST MET! WE WOULD BE OFF TO SUCH A BAD START.”

His brother nods in agreement. “no, that wouldn’t do at all. i guess you better make it up with her and tell her all about your favorite puzzles.”

“YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT, STRETCH! FOR ONCE, BROTHER, YOU’VE HAD A GREAT IDEA.”

“tell her about the crossword ones.”

“I TAKE THAT BACK. YOU’RE FULL OF AWFUL IDEAS.”

The brothers continue to bicker about puzzles, Stretch claiming that the crossword is the toughest, with his sibling--Blue, as you heard his brother call him--claiming that word searches are more fun. Papyrus chimes in to say that he agrees with Stretch. Edge likes sudoku.

You drift your focus towards the remaining three skeletons at the table, one of whom is asleep just like Papyrus’ brother, head down on the table. His black hoodie is lined with fur, and you can’t help but wonder how the hell he’s able to wear that in the late summer’s heat. The other two don’t bother interacting with the others, content to mind their own business and speak only to each other. The taller of the two catches your eye, and waggles the surprisingly malleable bone above his sockets in a suggestive way. You’re willing to bet actual money that he’s your _late night cohort._

When Edge finishes bringing all of the food out, he goes to serve himself first, but is interrupted by Papyrus’ scolding. “EDGE! WHERE ARE YOUR MANNERS? THE GUEST IS ALWAYS SERVED FIRST.”

Edge grumbles something insulting about hussies. Accurate, but a little hurtful. You still thank him when he sets food on your plate.

You wait until everyone is served and in some cases, woken up, before you pick up your fork to eat.

This is all so _weird_.

Here you are, sitting in some big ass house with a fuck ton of skeleton monsters, eating at their table like you’re a part of their family. Well, not like a part of the family exactly. There’s a familiarity that they all seem to have with each other, giving you that outsider feeling. You feel more like you’re being forced into polite hospitality, as if to mask the fact that you’re only here this morning because you fucked one of them last night.

Yeah. You’re a bit uncomfortable to say the least.

You try to eat the food in silence, avoiding the stare of the skeleton at the other end of the table eyeing you like a roast ham at Christmas dinner. The skeleton in the black hoodie that had been asleep doesn’t spare you a glance, choosing instead to focus on the food he scarfs down. The blue hoodie skeleton, Papyrus’ brother you believe, watches you while he eats as well. Not like something delicious, but not glaring either. Just observing.

Most of the skeleton family doesn’t bother to speak to you, except for Blue.

“WHAT KIND OF MOVIES DO YOU LIKE? DO YOU LIKE DISNEY? HAVE YOU HEARD OF METTATON? HE’S NOT AS GOOD AS NAPSTATON, BUT HE’S OKAY. WHAT ABOUT CARTOONS? I REALLY LIKE THIS SHOW CALLED ADVENTURE TIME BECAUSE IT REMINDS ME OF MY BROTHER AND I EXCEPT WE’RE WAY COOLER. DO YOU LIKE DC OR MARVEL BETTER? STRETCH SAYS MARVEL IS BETTER BUT I REALLY LIKE SUPERMAN AND EDGE LIKES BATMAN BUT PAPYRUS SAYS THAT THEY’RE ALL REALLY GOOD--”

Despite the many questions the skeleton throws at you, you’re not given any time to respond, so you just listen as he asks you about what you like, immediately following with what he likes. It’s kind of amusing, and keeps you from having to put forth effort into your end of the conversation, which is a great relief considering your headache. You were out of aspirin.

When everyone is finished, Blue and Papyrus help Edge with clearing the table. You sit awkwardly, purposely not acknowledging the sudden silence from the disappearance of the two most talkative skeletons. You fiddle with your hands in your lap, wondering if Papyrus had taken your clothes to be washed, and if they’d be done soon so you could finally leave and be done with the awkward breakfast party with people you don’t know.

Papyrus’ brother clears his non-existent throat. “i’ll throw you a _bone_ , kid. your clothes are almost done. you should be set to go in about ten minutes.”

You release the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, and your shoulders lose their tension. “Thanks, uh…”  
“sans. sans the skeleton.” He holds his hand out to shake, but the fluffy hooded skeleton laughs loudly, making your hand flinch and hesitate on its way to meet his.

“ya can’t really be serious, tryin’ that dumb ol’ trick on ‘er,” he says, meeting your gaze. Something fiery rests in his eyelights, but maybe that’s just because they have a red tint to them. “don’t let ‘im fool ya sweet thang, he’s got a whoopie cushion in ‘is sleeve.”

Sans lets out a chuckle and shrugs. “i always thought it was funny.”

“yeah, really tickled my _funny bone._ ” He rolls his eyelights. “well that was fun, sweetheart, call me if ya ever wanna take another ride on my red rocket.” With a wink, he gets up from the table and leaves the room.

“Gross,” you say. Now you wish you’d been with mister thirsty over there instead.

Now he’s making sexual innuendo gestures with his skeletal fingers. Nevermind, you wish you’d fucked Papyrus. Final answer.

But you guess it doesn’t really matter much, since you’re going to bolt as soon as your clothes are done. You doubt you’ll ever have to face the repercussions of hooking up with one of them. Probably.


	2. Bad Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You really should pay more attention to your surroundings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter, but I just felt like this was a good place to stop! The next chapter is already underway, and I hope you enjoy!

A week later, you wander into Grillby's with a fresh paycheck and a desperate need to get absolutely shitfaced.

Grillby, the flame monster behind the bar, nods to you in greeting. You'd recently taken to coming here at least once a week, and half of those times you can't remember how you got home. _If_ you get home.

"Grillbz! My mans! My _boi!"_ You hop onto one of the barstools and shoot him a finger gun. "No burger for me tonight. I'm trying to get fucked up as soon as possible. Whatcha got?"

Grillbz shakes his head, showing his disapproval, but he reaches behind him for a bottle anyway. He doesn't like it when you come in here looking for trouble, getting drunk and hitting on the other patrons. He'd just better be lucky he's not on the menu. You'd have to order a double shot.

After mixing together a strawberry vodka with lemon juice and a pinch of raspberry, he hands you two shots. You bring both up and tap them together in a mock toast. You take both shots, one right after the other. Your face pinches at the impact of the sour and strength of the vodka, but it honestly tastes good.

"You've been holding out! I didn't know you could mix the fruity stuff," you say to him, passing him back the empty shot glasses. Maybe it's just because of your eagerness to become intoxicated, but you swear you already feel it start to warm you up. "Now that I've got things started, how about a beer?"

Grillby hands you a beer, then wanders off to cater to other customers. It's one of his own brews, so it doesn't taste terrible. It's like a mixture of what you imagine butterbeer from Harry Potter tastes like and creme soda. You refuse to drink any other beer.

You go through about four bottles of beer and seven YouTube videos of Doctor Phil before you hear someone say your name.

"anna."

You look up, pausing your video, where the doctor is currently staring flabbergasted at a teenage girl that just insulted her mother. Your eyes meet a pair of eyelights and a lazy grin.

"Oh no."

"small world," the lanky skeleton says. His golden fang catches the light as his grin widens and it shines brightly. You hadn't noticed before, but he's got a dog collar hidden within the confines of the fluff of his hood. You guess that's where he got his nickname, Mutt. Kinky. And also gross, because it's him.

"Yeah, it really is small," you answer him. Too small for you to get away.

When you'd tried to leave last week, the thirsty skeleton from the other side of the table had volunteered to walk you home, since you were unfamiliar with the neighborhood. (It wasn't much of a neighborhood, really, just a huge house at the end of a long road surrounded by trees.) You'd initially declined, not that it did much to deter him, claiming you knew how to use Google Maps. Your phone was dead. He spent the entire walk making suggestive puns and flirting.

"come here often?"

"What a surprisingly normal thing to say," you observe. "And yeah, nearly every week."

He laughs, a surprisingly deep sound. "as opposed to what? _sexy_ things?" He leans forward and closes the opening of one of his sockets, giving you a wink. You hadn't thought to notice it before, but they must have been blinking like this the whole time. "nah, i think i'll wait until you're a few more drinks in. It might increase my chances."

"Well joke's on you, I'm not really into being passed around the family like a toy. You're gonna have to move along, bucko."

He shrugs, and gestures for Grillby, buying each of you a beer. "it's strange, though. my family comes here all the time, and we've never seen you until red brought you home. i guess we haven't been paying attention."

"I'm usually here much earlier," you say before taking a big swig. "I like to eat dinner early. It's supposed to be healthy."

His eye sockets widen, and he takes his own big swig. "pfft. i know a lot of things, but that human biology stuff is whack. all your cells breaking down stuff… i don't even wanna know."

"I don't wanna know either, that's why I come here. To forget," you say half heartedly. "But not over some angsty shit. I got over all my drama years ago. I just wanna forget how many dirty dishes I have waiting for me back at home."

You manage to make him laugh again, and you think it might be alright to hang out for a bit. He's not so bad when he's not trying to nail you.

**Two Hours Later**

Mutt pushes your body up against the wall beside your door, too eager to wait for you to pull out your keys. You moan as his teeth push hard against your mouth. His hands leave their place at your shoulders and begin trailing downwards, and he holds you in place with his hips. One hand finds a breast, the other grabs your thigh. He begins trailing kisses down your neck intermingled with tiny nips. You have to hold back a scream when he bites down. Warmth starts to pool inside you, and you can tell by the bulge forming against you that he feels the same heat.

He rocks his hips forward, rubbing his bulge against you. Your eyes roll back with desire, and you let out an inviting growl. He answers with one of his own, but backs off. You quickly fumble in your pocket, trying to locate your keys.

The second you have the door open, he's on you again, and you almost forget to close the door behind you. You kick it back, and it slams shut. Your purse and keys drop to the floor, and as you move forward to lean more into his kiss, you trip over them and the motion knocks you both onto the couch. The old thing groans beneath the sudden force, but it holds, but you weren't planning to stop if it broke.

You're saddled on top of him, placing kisses along his jawline. You try at first to be slow and sensual, sexy, but you don't have the patience and neither does he. Passion overtakes you, and you're placing your lips all over him in a ragged fashion while he cups your behind in both hands. He pushes your hips into his own, dragging your pelvis against his. You take the hint and begin grinding against him. He groans, eye sockets half lidded and the lights in them dilated in ecstacy.

When your kisses reach his neck, you breathe in deep, taking in his natural scent. It's earthy, musky, and… smokey? No, not smokey… _smoke._

"oh my stars, anna, your apartment is on fire!"

You try to leap up from him, but in your rush, your legs tangle in his and you end up with your face flat on the floor. When you bring your head up to look, you find the source of the smoke. The shitty, half melted electric socket you'd ruined with a high voltage space heater last winter when the excessively drafty apartment had gotten too chilly to be comfortable. Inside one of the plugs is your phone charger. You'd realized this morning that you'd forgotten to charge your phone overnight, and plugged the charger in without thinking about it, and it had sat there all day. It's on fire now.

"What do I do?! Do I call someone? Try to put it out? Is this really happening right now?"

The smoke flows up and onto the ceiling where it spreads out, blackening everything in its path. You just stare at it in shock.

"you get the fuck out of here, that's what you do!" Mutt grabs you by the waist, dragging you up from the floor. He tries to pull you towards the door, but you snap back to reality and break out of his grip.

"My stash! I've gotta get my money," you tell him, gesturing towards the door just past the slowly building line of flame climbing the wall.

"are you crazy? you're gonna run in there after some cash?" Mutt tries to grab your wrist, but you yank it away.

You dash towards the door, ignoring the heat and trying to keep your head low and out of the smoke. You catch one last look from Mutt before you jump into the room. He shakes his head, conflicted, but eventually shrugs and dashes out of the apartment.

Once inside the room, you run to the nightstand by your bed and crouch down. You open the drawer, and start pulling out all the stuff inside, making a mess of the room with old bills, dead batteries, hair ties, and a couple books. When the drawer is clear, you pull out the false bottom you'd made when you first moved into this apartment four years ago. At the bottom is about six small wads of cash haphazardly wrapped in rubber bands. You quickly stuff them into your pockets.

When you stand back up and spin on your heels, your vision starts to blur. You don't know if it's the smoke or the alcohol that's still in your system, but suddenly it's hard for you to see and even harder to move. You cough, breathing in large amounts of smoke. It's filled up the room now, and flames have started to peek around the corner of the doorframe.

You have two choices. You could crouch back down to the floor and yell for help, praying that a neighbor has noticed the smoke and called the fire department. You won't be able to yell for long with the limited amount of clean air at the floor of the room, and the flames creeping in are still a concern. But your second option is even more scary, with you braving the flames to burst through the doorway and make a break for the exit.

Your heart clenches in resignation, and you already know your choice. You've never been one to lay down and pray. You're a survivor. You grab your self-made destiny by the balls and keep pushing forward. Your chest swells in what could either be perseverance or adrenaline, and you start counting.

"One…"

You close your eyes, centering your mind on this task, blocking out the smoke and the rising heat. You cough again. Your throat is scratchy and burns.

"Two…"

You open your eyes again, staring directly at the doorway. The flames are nothing but a little wall of heat. You've got this.

"Three!"

You don't have this. But you're going anyway. You dash through the door, ignoring the heat as it catches on your clothes. It burns, and you cry out in pain, but you don't stop. You make a run for the door to your apartment, which has luckily been left ajar after Mutt left. You're close, you can see the ugly green carpet of the hallway, you can hear the commotion of your neighbors as they leave their apartments to see what's going on. You're so close…

Your foot hits something, and slides. Your ankle twists in an unfamiliar way, and you start to fall. On your way to the ground, you can hear the deep voice of Mutt talking to someone just outside your apartment door, but you don't have the time to take in what was said before the brass doorknob appears in front of your eyes and everything fades to black.


	3. Bad Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why are medical bills so expensive?
> 
> Mutt needs to get his priorities figured out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudoz and comments! I really appreciate it. <3 I love seeing it, it's a really good motivator. You guys are my #2 reason for writing. The #1 reason is my blatant desperation for skeleton sin.

This time when you wake up, you remember everything from the previous night. And that memory _hurts._ You're not surprised. Of all the things your drunk brain could choose to hold on to, it would definitely choose the worst things. At least you could argue that it's important.

Your apartment _caught fire._ Who even knows what kind of mess this means you're in. What about your lease? Is anything salvageable? Did it spread to the other apartments?

It doesn't occur to you that you're laying in a hospital bed in the emergency room until a young nurse comes in, followed by one of the skeletons you met last week. The only one you really liked, Papyrus.

"Anna is going to be just fine, Mr. Serif. She's got a concussion and suffered quite a bit from smoke inhalation, but luckily she's got some strong lungs and they didn't swell too bad," the nurse says. His face brightens when he sees yours, and he points his clipboard towards you. "See? She's already awake. She's a fighter, I'm telling you."

"HUMAN!" Papyrus rushes over to your side, kneeling down to meet your eyes. "WHEN MUTT CAME HOME IN A PANIC, WE WERE ALL SO WORRIED! Well Not All Of Us But MOST OF US WERE VERY CONCERNED! SANS CALLED THE HUMAN EMERGENCY NUMBER 911 WHILE MUTT AND I WENT RUSHING BACK TO GET YOU. AND WHEN WE SAW YOU LYING THERE ON THE GROUND…" Papyrus shakes his head, a sad look overtaking him before it's replaced with relief. "WELL! I'M JUST GLAD TO SEE THAT YOU'RE OKAY."

You feel your eyes start to water. This monster barely knows you, but he may have saved your life. And he's still so concerned!

"Th-thank you, P-Papyrus." It's hard to talk with the smoke in your throat, and you're sent into a coughing fit. The nurse has his hands full trying to calm Papyrus down, since it causes him to worry even more. He gives you some aspirin for the pain when you stop, and then he leaves you alone with Papyrus.

"Is Mutt okay?" It hurts to speak, but you push through it. You've gotta know what's going on. "What about the apartment? Is it okay?"

Papyrus can't meet your eyes, and he scratches the back of his skull. "MUTT IS JUST FINE. HE DOESN'T HAVE ANY LUNGS TO DAMAGE, AND HE DIDN'T TOUCH ANY FIRE. BUT YOUR APARTMENT…"

"Oh no, don't tell me. It's completely destroyed, isn't it?" Depression starts to build inside you as you realize you're going to have to use the money you saved from the apartment to replace everything you had.

"WELL, YES AND NO," Papyrus begins to explain. "THERE WERE SOME THINGS THAT SURVIVED. MOST OF YOUR KITCHEN SEEMED UNAFFECTED BEYOND SMOKE DAMAGE. COPPER-LINED, STAINLESS STEEL POTS. AMAZING! IT'S NO WONDER WHY THOSE MADE IT OUT OKAY. THAT'S SOME QUALITY KITCHENWARE. BUT… EVERYTHING ELSE IS GONE."

You let out a big sigh, and nod your head. At least you didn't lose your mother's pots. That makes two disasters they've survived. It's gonna take a lot of money to find new furniture, though.

"Okay. Thank you, Papyrus."

Papyrus keeps you company for hours while you wait in the ER. You talk about puzzles, your favorite shows, your favorite music. You pull your phone from its place beside you, on top of a pile of the clothes you'd been wearing the previous night, which seem to have been laundered. You happily play a song for him that you think he'd like based on his tastes, and he loves it. You exchange numbers, saving him under the nickname "Paps."

"THAT'S WHAT MY BROTHER CALLS ME," he informs you. "BE SURE TO LET ME KNOW IF YOU HAVE ANYMORE APARTMENTS BURN DOWN!"

You laugh, and he grins. You're glad for his friendship, even if the circumstances are as bad as they are. "Thank you, Paps."

Just as Papyrus is about to leave, the nurse from before comes back in with a pensive expression.

"Miss Redwoode, do you have any more recent forms of insurance documentation? The card in your wallet seems to have been declined. The holder of that policy is deceased."

You look down, avoiding his gaze. You knew this was coming, but you'd hoped that Papyrus wouldn't be here to see it. "No, I don't. I'm sorry."

The nurse reluctantly hands you a short stack of papers on a clipboard and a pen. He looks away, unable to meet your eyes. You can't meet his, either. But you don't blame him. He just works here. "This is your bill. There is a receptionist down the hall near the front entrance you can speak to about payment. If you would like to avoid being charged for another night in ER, please vacate the premises by one this afternoon."

You nod in understanding, and he leaves. The digital clock above the door reads 11:23AM.

"WHAT DOES HE MEAN BY PAYMENT? WHAT ARE YOU PAYING FOR?"

This is… embarrassing. You don't want to explain to Papyrus that healthcare is expensive, and that if you're uninsured (which you are) then you're slapped with an unpayable debt for the rest of your life, unless you're lucky enough to make enough money to pay it. But you make at best $30k a year before taxes, and rent isn't cheap this close to the city. Not that you have rent to worry about anymore, unless your landlord is crazy enough to still continue to charge you. You won't pay him if he does, though.

You let out a heavy sigh, and shrug your shoulders. "Big pharma, Paps. The economy is shit." He gives you a stern look and asks you to watch your language. "Sorry. But it costs humans to get medical attention. It really sucks for people like me."

"PEOPLE LIKE YOU?"

"Yeah. People that don't make a lot of money, and don't get any insurance deals through their work." You don't want to, but you take a glance at the bill in front of you and you have to put your head in your hands to keep from bursting into tears. "It costs a lot to come here. I'm never going to be able to pay this back."

Papyrus takes the clipboard, looking over the papers. "WHAT IS THIS? DOES IT REALLY COST THIS MUCH JUST TO BE IN THIS ROOM OVERNIGHT? WHY DOES IT COST SO MUCH JUST TO RIDE IN AN AMBULANCE, THIS IS ABSURD!"

You shrug, defeated. "This is capitalism."

Papyrus opens his mouth to respond, but the door swings open. His older brother Sans enters the room, giving you a lazy wave. "you ready to go, bro?"

"NO! NO I AM NOT!" Papyrus frantically waves his arms in the air as he talks. "HOW CAN I JUST LIVE MY LIFE KNOWING THAT HUMANS WILL CHARGE PEOPLE WHILE SAVING EACH OTHER'S LIVES?!"

Sans walks over to where his brother is standing beside your bed. "what are you talking about?" He takes a look at the clipboard in his hands, and shakes his head. "yikes, kid. that really sucks. i hope you have enough money to cover it."

You shake your head. "No. But it's okay. I know a few other people that have debts like this. They just ignore it, and they stop hunting you down eventually."

"THEY _HUNT_ YOU?"

"Sorry, no, that was an exaggeration. They usually just send a lot of really annoying letters, and you get some phone calls, but it's not so bad. They’ll probably take all of my state income tax money for the rest of my life, though."

The skeleton brothers exchange a look, and then Sans sighs. "alright. got any place to stay tonight?"

You shake your head. “I can probably couch surf until I find a cheap studio apartment near my work. And I’ve got my car, so I’ll be alright.” You’ve gotta be. These situations are exactly why you save your money instead of spending it on dumb shit like you used to do. “I’ve got some money, anyway…”

Oh god. You can’t remember having seen it since you grabbed it last night. Is it still… You quickly reach down towards your pocket and start to panic when your hand hits the plastic hospital gown. Looking towards your pile of clothes someone definitely changed you out of, you’re pretty sure it’s gone.

And now you have nothing, except your mom’s pots and a car.

“oh yeah, I forgot about that.” Sans pulls out your rolls of money from his hoodie pocket and hands them to you. Relief floods you immediately. Thank god for these skeletons, right? “you had it stashed in your pocket when my bro found you. one of the emergency responder guys looked like he was going to make a grab for it, so i snuck off with it before he had the chance. no one else noticed you had it, so it wasn’t missed. i’d almost forgotten, sorry about that.”

You gratefully take the money and stash it into the pockets of the pants at your side. “Thank you, Sans. This means everything to me right now. It’s the only thing that’s gonna save me.”

He shrugs with a grimace. “look kid, if you’ve got no place to go, i really don’t wanna just leave you here. papyrus will make a scene.”

Papyrus nods. “I WILL. A BIG ONE.”

“you can come stay with us for a little bit. get yourself back on your feet.”

You cringe at his offer to help. You know that it’s stupid and prideful of you to instinctively reject help from others, but there’s something inside you that keeps reminding you of all your shortcomings when you’re forced to rely on someone else. You hate that voice. “I don’t know, guys. You’ve already helped me a lot, I don’t want to impose. You saved my _life_ , literally and financially. I couldn’t ask you to house me as well.”

“you’re not asking anyone. we’re offering. aggressively offering.” Papyrus makes a sound that imitates the clearing of a throat. “ _politely_ aggressively offering.”

You shake your head, but it falls on deaf whatever these fuckers are using to listen to you speak.

“great! so glad you see reason. paps, grab her things.”

Papyrus grabs your clothing, your soot-covered purse, and your cell phone. Before you can react, he grabs hold of you too, lifting you up and letting the hospital blanket fall to the bed beneath you. Your gown begins to slip around you, no doubt exposing parts of you that should only be seen by your mother and god, but have no doubt been seen by many.

“What are you doing? Am I being kidnapped?”

Sans doesn’t answer. He places one boney hand on Papyrus’ shoulder and his other on your arm. A feeling close to freefall overtakes you, and you take a quick inhale of air before the world goes black.

**Mutt.**

At the Serif residence, Mutt sits on the couch in the living area for Sans and Papyrus to come home with an update on your condition.

He should never have left you. When him and Papyrus burst through your door to find your face planted in the carpet, his soul sank. Black would say that he’s gone soft since coming to this universe, but he just can’t help it. There’s a real chance to have something different here, and he’s tired of the way he’s used to living, like there’s nothing to be held accountable for. Like he hasn’t been playing with people’s lives since he learned what it would take for him to survive in the underground with his little brother.

He was responsible for you, and he let you down.

When you ran into that bedroom, he’d thought you were crazy. His instincts kicked in, and he got the fuck outta there. It was only when he’d teleported home and the scent of the smoke on his clothes filled the room that he really thought about it. He immediately went to this universe’s Sans, filling him in. Papyrus volunteered to help him go back for you while Sans called the emergency number. He teleported them both right outside in the hallway, and when he opened the door…

He should probably stop thinking about it. You were still alive, after all. He did his part.

A loud groan from the other side of the couch grabs Mutt’s attention. Red is sitting with his feet up on the coffee table, a cigarette in his mouth and his phone in his hand. “yer not still hung up about that chick i boned last week, are ya?”

Mutt shrugs. “she coulda died, and that woulda been my fault.”

“so? what’s it ta you anyway? it was prob’ly ‘er own fault the fire started.”

“i still coulda done more to help. i just hope she’s okay.”

Red gets up, rolling his eyes. “an’ i hope she doesn’t call ya ‘cause you left ‘er.” His skull wrinkles up in disgust. “always chasin’ ‘round my leftovers like a thirsty hound.”

“i didn’t even get to hit it.”

Red laughs as he exits the room. “now i _really_ hope she doesn’t call ya.”

He’ll find you again to apologize, whether you call him or not. Did he even remember to give you his number? Whatever. He’ll find you at Grillby’s or something. He’ll apologize, and you’ll pick up right where you left off. And he’ll fuck you so much better than Red ever could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Orange Trees" - MARINA  
> 


	4. Bad Landlord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when you think you've already been served.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for being gone, but I won't bore you with the details on what's been going on. I'll just try to write more for you.

A feeling of weightlessness. A fearful pause in the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. Cold, still air. Darkness without sound. Nothingness.

And then suddenly, a gravity-like pull brings you back into reality.

The artificial light emitting from the two working bulbs in the ceiling fan fixture above you stings your retinas, and you shut your eyes immediately to block out the pain. The hum of electricity and white noise of the everyday, sounds that would otherwise go unnoticed, are overwhelmingly loud. The weight of an atmosphere's worth of air sitting on top of you is all of a sudden too much to bear.

You feel as if someone pulled you out of the world, and you've forgotten what it felt like to be a part of it. A migraine immediately begins to form, likely triggered by the stress of the forced change in environment, and your stomach becomes unsettled.

"oh shit, i'm sorry kid," you hear Sans say from below you. "i forgot that it's something you have to get used to."

You don't open your eyes to properly look at him, being too sensitive to the brightness of the room. You choose instead to nod in the general direction the sound of his voice had come from, which proves to be a big mistake as the motion causes your stomach to immediately convulse with threats of bile.

"SANS, YOU'LL HAVE TO GRAB A BUCKET," Papyrus' loud voice booms from above you. The shuffling of feet across hardwood fade away, but then quickly return. Papyrus gently lowers you down to kneel on the floor, and when you open your eyes, a grey metal bucket has been placed in front of you. You don't waste any time, grabbing for it immediately and chucking up everything your stomach has to offer.

A gentle hand rubs circles on your back, probably belonging to Papyrus. Hushed voices can be heard from the corner of the room, but you're unable to drag yourself away from the bucket long enough to see who Sans might be talking to. _Just breathe,_ you tell yourself.

After a few dry heaves, you lift your head for a glance at the third skeleton in the room, who must have been in the room when you appeared. To your surprise, it's Mutt. He shoots you a smile when you see him, but you're unable to return it as another dry heave causes you to dive back to the bucket-- just in case.

When you've been still for a few minutes, and you feel more calm, you notice the quiet in the room. It's just you and Papyrus now, Sans and Mutt are gone. "Where did they go?"

Papyrus bends down to your level on the floor, taking the bucket from its place between your knees. "SANS HAS LEFT TO UPDATE THE OTHERS ON YOUR SITUATION, AND TO LET THEM KNOW THAT YOU'LL BE STAYING WITH US FOR A FEW DAYS. MUTT WENT TO LOOK FOR SPARE BLANKETS AND PILLOWS."

"Where--" After a glance around the room, it's easy to see that you've been transported to the skeleton home. "How did I get here? I mean, I know how I get here, some kind of monster teleporting magic, but _how?_ I didn't know monsters could do that."

"ONE MOMENT, ANNA, I REALLY CAN'T LEAVE THIS BUCKET HERE LIKE THIS," Papyrus says, taking it out of the room. After a few moments accompanied with the sound of running water, he returns. "WOULD YOU LIKE TO SIT ON THE COUCH UNTIL MUTT RETURNS WITH THE BEDDING?"

You nod, taking his outstretched hand and slowly rising to your feet. While the nausea and sensitivity have died down significantly, you don't trust yourself, expecting the hangover you should be feeling to announce itself the moment all the other pressing bodily concerns disappear. You try not to flop onto the couch, but you do anyway, since it rests much lower than you expect. Papyrus doesn't seem to mind though, and takes a seat beside you on the other end. You both sink right into the cushions, like resting in a pile of raw cotton.

"THERE ARE A LOT OF DIFFERENT KINDS OF MAGIC, MORE THAN JUST THE COMMON TYPES THAT THEY TALK ABOUT ON TV AND IN THE ARTICLES," he begins to explain. "THERE ARE SOME SKILLS THAT RUN IN FAMILIES, ESPECIALLY IN BOSS FAMILIES, LIKE THE ROYAL FAMILY AND THE FIRE ELEMENTALS. MY BEST FRIEND, SHE'S AN AQUATIC MONSTER, AND THE CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD!" His face brightens with a massive grin. If he had eyelights like some of his other relatives, you're sure they'd be sparkling. Must be a really cool friend. "SHE CAN CREATE TEMPORARY PHYSICAL OBJECTS OUT OF MAGIC! SHE MOSTLY JUST MAKES SPEARS, BUT THEY'RE REALLY COOL!"

You try to picture a fish woman clutching a magical spear, but for some reason, it just seems too far fetched. You'd really like to meet her. "What about you guys? Are you boss monsters? What's a boss monster?"

Just then, Mutt appears at the doorway with his arms containing a small pile of blankets with a couple of pillows resting on top. A shorter skeleton dressed in dark jeans and a black t-shirt steps in behind him, an irritated expression on his face.

"I JUST DON'T SEE WHY IT'S NECESSARY THAT SHE STAY IN _OUR_ HOME. DOES SHE NOT HAVE ANY HUMAN FRIENDS? ANY HUMAN FAMILY? HUMAN ENEMIES?"

Mutt sets the pile of bedding down in the armchair next to the couch, then turns around to face him. "sorry, m'lord, 'm not the one who invited her," he says, slyly shooting a wink your way. "she definitely wouldn't be on the couch if i did." You roll your eyes at him, causing him to flinch slightly, but he recovers quickly with another grin. "it's not too late to change your mind, ya know..."

"DOWN, MUTT. THIS BEHAVIOR IS DISGRACEFUL," the black clothed skeleton scolded. "DON'T MAKE ME TAKE AWAY YOUR BED PRIVILEGES! SO HELP ME, I'LL HAVE YOUR ROOM BOARDED UP, AND YOU'LL BE RESTING ON THE FLOOR AT MY FEET LIKE THE DOG YOU ARE. THIS GIRL MAY BE A _HUMAN,_ BUT SHE IS ALSO A _GUEST,_ AND WHEN YOU LOOK BAD, _I_ LOOK BAD, AND _I DO NOT LOOK BAD."_

Mutt opens his mouth to respond, but receives a hard look, choosing instead to shoot you a nod before backing out of the room from where he came.

The other skeleton's gaze focuses on you, and you almost expect to receive a scolding yourself. For what, you're not sure, but you wouldn't be surprised to find that you'd done something to offend the monster.

"I APOLOGIZE FOR MY BROTHER'S CRUDE COMMENTS AND IMPLICATIONS. HE HASN'T BEEN FIXED YET." You giggle a little at the image of Mutt coming back from the vet, head in a cone and hanging in shame. He smirks at your giggle, about to add something else, but then his expression fills with recognition. "AH, THE WOMAN FROM LAST WEEK. RED'S MOST RECENT CONQUEST, AND THEREFORE, MY BROTHER'S NEWEST GOAL."

"I--what?"

"BLACK, THAT ISN'T VERY POLITE," Papyrus says from beside you. "DIDN'T YOU JUST SCOLD MUTT?"

"YES, YOU'RE RIGHT, MY APOLOGIES," he says, although he rolls his eyes. "IT HAS BEEN A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU AGAIN." And with that, he turns and leaves.

Is he polite, or an asshole? Probably an asshole, you decide. If you have to think about it, he's an asshole.

"I'M REALLY SORRY, ANNA. MOST OF MY RELATIVES ARE PRETTY DIFFICULT TO SPEAK WITH," Papyrus says, gently rubbing a hand on your back in a soothing way. It feels nice. "I'LL HAVE A TALK WITH THEM, MAYBE ASK THEM TO BE MORE CONSIDERATE OF YOU AND YOUR... SITUATION."

"You mean the tragedy spiral my life has been catapulted into? It's alright Paps, sooner or later, _something_ was gonna happen to me. The past month has been a little too good to me." Papyrus flinches at your attempt at dark humor, and you regret trying to lighten the mood in your current state. It would probably be better to just steer the conversation back. "So, we were talking about magic? And boss monsters?"

He seems grateful for the topic change. "AH, YES! SO MY BROTHER AND I, AND OUR COUSINS, ARE FROM A SKELETON BOSS FAMILY. BOSS FAMILIES USUALLY HAVE THEIR OWN SPECIAL KINDS OF MAGIC, AND WE SPECIALIZE IN BONE AND GRAVITY MAGIC!"

"But what about the teleporting? Is that something that only some of you can do?" You recall how Sans had grabbed you and Papyrus, and how he explained that Mutt had been the one to teleport them both back to your apartment. "Can't you teleport too?"

Papyrus crosses his arms over his chest and lets out a huff of air. "OF COURSE! IT IS A SERIF FAMILY TRICK, AFTER ALL. BUT IT IS VERY LAZY! I REFUSE TO TAKE A 'SHORTCUT' WHEN I CAN WALK JUST FINE! But Since I Don't Use It, I'm Not Very, Um... Familiar With The Technique." His cheekbones turn a light shade of orange, embarrassed.

"that's alright, bro, i still think you're cool," Sans says from the doorway, causing you to jump. Having been focused on Papyrus, you hadn't noticed him coming in. "i told the rest of the house that you'll be staying a little while. paps, will you be able to take her by her apartment tomorrow to talk to her landlord and collect whatever's... left?" He frowns, a weird sight to see on his usually grinning face. "i'm really sorry, anna."

"It's not your fault," you say. "Really, I should be thanking you. So, thanks guys, I appreciate what you're doing for me." His smile returns.

"I'D BE HAPPY TO TAKE HER TO HER APARTMENT TOMORROW, SANS." Sans nods, and he adds, "BUT WE REALLY SHOULD LET HER SLEEP THE REST OF THE DAY. HER HUMAN BODY MUST BE EXHAUSTED."

Sans and Papyrus leave you to get some sleep, Papyrus returning only to bring you a glass of water. While you desperately wish to wash the vomit from your mouth, you find your eyelids to be too heavy, and the couch is far too comfortable to risk leaving. Wrapped up in the blankets brought to you by Mutt, you fall into a dead sleep.

**The Next Day.**

Papyrus parks his shiny red convertible on the curb across the street from your apartment building. Worried a car this expensive might attract too much attention in this kind of neighborhood if left unguarded, you decline his offer to come with you. Fortunately, when you'd called your landlord Mr. Bates this morning, he didn't seem to be angry with you for the fire you'd caused in his building, but instead seemed rather eager to see you. That can't be a good sign.

"JUST TEXT ME IF YOU NEED ANYTHING!" Papyrus shouts from where he stands, next to the passenger side door that he'd insisted on opening for you. You turn to give him a thumbs up, and he waves.

You raise your keycard to the black box on the wall to release the lock on the door. The red light flashes green, and you hear a small _beep._ You pull the door open, careful it doesn't swing too far since maintenance never got around to fixing the hinges on it.

Inside the small lobby, there are four uncomfortable looking wooden chairs that sit across from a high, thick wooden counter. Between the counter and the "waiting area" there is just enough space for two people to slip by, if they were walking side by side. To the left of the room is a set of stairs, carpeted a shade of ugly green to match the hallways and the entirety of the main floor. Directly to the right of the stairs is an old elevator that works almost half the time. You're lucky to have lived on the second floor, so taking the stairs has never been an issue for you. That elevator is not to be trusted.

The middle aged blonde woman behind the counter stops typing at her computer and smiles at you. "Anna! I'm so glad you're alright. I heard about what happened the other night. I'm sorry, hun."

You return her smile, and gesture to alcove beside the elevator with a dehydrated plant and a wooden door and black nameplate. "It's alright, Carol. I need to speak with Mr. Bates. Is he in his office?"

She nods her head and returns to her computer. "Go on in, he's expecting you."

You give a hesitant knock at the door before sticking your head in, hoping that he wouldn't really be there, unsure why you're afraid to face him. He wasn't angry with you, so surely he doesn't blame you. And he has insurance, right? Even slumlords don't go without insurance...

"Anna! Come in, come in, don't be shy. Have a seat." The balding heavyset man sitting behind the old desk nods towards the two green armchairs in front of him. "We've got some things to discuss."

There's something about the grin on his face that freaks you out, but you can't pinpoint what it is. Although you've never once seen this man smile since his divorce had been finalized last year, it seems natural and genuine. Is he trying to be less intimidating, in case you bail out on the lease? Or does he have good news?

You take a seat in the chair closest to you, and watch as the man pulls out a folder with a stack of papers inside. The folder is labeled "Redwoode, Anna." You recognize it as a copy of your lease agreement.

"Now Anna, as you well know, there was a fire two nights ago." You nod, brows creasing in thought. "And you of course know that it started in your room, and then started to spread to another apartment before being put out, and caused massive amounts of smoke damage on your floor as well as the floor above it."

You hadn't heard that, but you've spent most of your time sleeping since the fire. "Did it really get that bad?"

Bates nods. "Now, I can't tell you the total cost in damages, but I can tell you that I won't be out of pocket for the repairs. I'm also more than happy to let you out of your lease without any extra fees, and I'll be giving you back your deposit in full."

Relief floods through you, and you stand up to shake his hand. "Oh thank you, Mr. Bates, you have no idea how much of a help it is that you're being so understanding."

He smiles, taking the hand and returning the shake. "Of course, I'm not heartless. But we still have some paperwork to go through, and I'll need the name of the company you got your renter's insurance from."

You freeze, hand still attached to his. Renter's insurance? Didn't you only need that for the first month?

"U-Um, what's that?"

His hand drops, and he pulls out of a sheet of paper and a pen to hand to you, which you take but only glance at. An accident report form. "Renter's insurance? You know, like through State Farm or something? I don't remember which one was popular around here, but if I look through your file I'm sure I could find out what you've got..."

Suddenly, you feel hot. You're pretty sure you cancelled your renter's insurance after the first month you'd moved in, needing that money for food instead. Wasn't it optional? Only necessary during move in?

You hadn't noticed him reaching for the phone, but in your daze, somehow Bates had dialed the number listed in your file listed for the representative you'd worked with.

"Yes, hello, is this Miss Garcia?" Pause. "This is Robert Bates, from Bates Apartments, I'm here about a resident." Pause. "Yes, this is about the fire." Pause. "Anna Redwoode." A longer pause. His brow creases, and his thin lips set into a slight frown. "Oh. I see. Well then, thank you for your time."

Bates hangs up the phone and sets it on the receiver. You choose to look down at the desk instead of at him, but you can feel the intensity of his gaze. "Anna, did you cancel your renter's insurance?"

You nod guiltily. "I didn't realize that I needed it past the first month, so..."

His expression turns hard, and one of his fists tightly grips the pen in his hand. He shut his eyes for a few moments, as if hoping to shut you out and pretend that this isn't really happening, and that you do have insurance.

But man, if there was one thing you really did not fucking have right now, it was insurance.

When he opens his eyes, you're sitting down in the chair again. He sighs deeply, and pulls out your lease agreement. After flipping through it, he points to a paragraph. "Right here. Right here is where it states that you must have renter's insurance at all times to maintain the contract." He runs his hand through the remaining strands of his hair, and then flips to the next page. "And right here is where it says that if a tornado, earthquake, fire, or other major accident causes damage to the property, it is my responsibility to provide accommodations for the affected residents and to make sure repairs are done in a timely manner. But _here--"_ Bates points to a line at the bottom of the page. "--is where it states that if a resident is at fault, they are liable for the damages, and their insurance will have to pay for it."

Your stomach feels like it's dropping into your ass, and despite just having felt hot, you now feel a cold chill flowing down your spine. "But the fire, it wasn't my fault, I've been asking to get that outlet repaired for _months,_ and--"

Bates holds up his hand to stop you from going further, all traces of earlier politeness gone. "Enough. Since you don't have insurance, and you clearly won't be able to pay for this out of pocket, I'm afraid I'm going to have to see you in small claims court."


	5. It’s Only Been Five Chapters And I’m Already Sick Of Themed Chapter Names So This Is What You’re Getting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus always seems to make you feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on making the set up take this long but I'm bad at sticking to the plan

It only took you fifteen minutes to grab your mother’s pots from your apartment and haul them down to your car. There really wasn’t a lot left in there that hadn’t received damage from the fire, smoke, or the water the fire fighters had used. RIP the flatscreen you splurged on last Black Friday, and the second hand Switch. They will be missed.

You were glad to see that Papyrus had waited for you to finish, and he offered to help you with your small stack of pots the moment you’d stepped out of the building. With his help, you both load the pots into your backseat. The trunk has unfortunately been jammed since long before you got the car, but you’ve never needed to haul a whole lot of things, so it hasn’t really bothered you.

Papyrus shoots you a questioning glance from where he stands next to the hood of the car. “I DON’T MEAN TO SEEM RUDE ANNA, BUT ARE YOU SURE THIS CAR IS SAFE TO DRIVE? WILL YOU MAKE IT BACK SAFELY?”

The car in question is an old, beat up gold Saturn that’s almost as old as you are. Small scrapes line the front and back bumper from years of terrible parking, as well as a dented rear passenger door. The grey interior, while clean, is falling apart in some places. Anyone could tell with a glance that the tread on your tires is nearly gone, and if you’re being honest with yourself, they’re more than a little low on air. You can’t even remember the last time you had the oil changed, but it’s been more than a few thousand miles.

You shrug, but offer him a nod. “It’s not the prettiest or fastest pony in the race, but she’ll get to the finish line.”

Papyrus looks like he wants to disagree, but you shoo him away, reminding him that you take it to work everyday and haven’t had a problem yet. He begrudgingly returns to his car, and you follow him back to their home.

The drive back is uneventful, despite his worries. You admit that you’d been a little worried as well, considering that the skeletons’ house was located on the other side of town, which is farther than you’re used to driving. With your office, Grillby’s, and a grocery store all located within a ten block radius from your apartment, you didn’t have to go far very often.

Thankfully, the skeletons’ home has a massive driveway leading off the main road, leading past a thicket of trees and towards a large yard surrounded by more trees. Papyrus parks in front of a large, two car garage attached to the house. You start to wonder why he doesn't just park inside it, but then remember how many skeletons live here, and figure the garage may already have cars inside.

You park underneath a tall tree, careful to take a look at the branches in case they’re a strong breeze away from falling and breaking your windshield, but they seem sturdy enough. After staring at them for another twenty seconds, you still don’t trust it, and put your car back into drive and scooch it forward into the late summer sun. Rather have a hot car than a hot repair bill, amiright?

Are you crazy now, unable to trust trees? Is this what paranoia is, being worried about everything hiding around the block with a bat and waiting to pop out and hit you right in the wallet? _Nah,_ you reason. _I’ve just hit a string of bad luck. I’ll bounce back. I’ve still gotta be careful, though._

While deep in your thoughts, you didn’t notice Papyrus come up beside your car door, and jump when it’s suddenly opened. You give him a small smile and thank him for being such a gentleman, and he grins back at you.

Such a sweetums. You just can’t think about any of your problems with him being so nice like that.

You don’t bother to bring your mother’s pots into the home, since they’re bound to have better ones, and you’re not sure how long you’ll be staying. They may have given you an open ended offer to crash with them, but you don’t want to abuse it, especially since you haven’t known them for very long. Once inside, you follow Papyrus into the kitchen, where he starts pulling ingredients out of the pantry.

“Are you making lunch? Let me help you,” you say, walking past him to the sink to wash your hands. “Spaghetti, right?”

Papyrus sets down the tomatoes, mushrooms, seasonings, and noodles onto the counter beside the stove. “OH, YOU DON’T HAVE TO HELP ME. I LOVE TO COOK. THE ONLY THING YOU NEED TO DO FOR ME IS EAT IT.” After grabbing a saucepan and a pot from the lower cabinets, he fills the pot with water and sets them both on the stove. Looking around for a cutting board, you grab the tomatoes before he can stop you. “ANNA!”

“Nope,” you say as you spot one hanging on a hook above the sink. “I can’t just let you do all the work while I sit here staring at you. Besides, don’t I owe you at least this?”

Papyrus doesn’t answer, appearing caught between scolding you and giving in. Eventually, he nods his head and pulls out another, smaller cutting board from a drawer and hands you a knife. “WELL, ALRIGHT. BUT ONLY BECAUSE WE’RE FRIENDS, AND FRIENDS HELP EACH OTHER, NOT BECAUSE YOU OWE ME ANYTHING.”

You open your mouth to argue that you do owe him for his help, but stop before the words come out. He’s right, friends do help each other. Why were you being so adamant about refusing their help, anyway? It’s not like you really have anyone else that would be willing to step in like they have. But then again, it’s the fact that they’re the only ones you have right now, and you haven’t even had them long, that makes you so hesitant. Do you really want to push them away?

It seems like the negative thoughts just keep piling on.

You’re not very good at cutting vegetables, since you don’t make food from scratch very often, opting instead to have instant and frozen meals take up a majority of your diet. You may have held onto your mother’s pots all these years, but it’s not because you’re very good at using them.

“Papyrus, is this okay? I’m not sure if I’ve done it right…”

“NONSENSE! THESE WILL ONLY END UP TURNING INTO PASTE ANYWAY, YOU COULDN’T POSSIBLY HAVE CUT THEM WRO--” As soon as he sees the tomato you’ve massacred, he begins to sweat. “--W-WRONG. BUT UH, IF YOU’RE FEELING SELF-CONSCIOUS ABOUT IT, THEN MAYBE YOU’D PREFER BRINGING THE WATER TO A BOIL?”

Taking the hint, you trade places with him and turn on the stove. Looking over at the mushrooms, you can see that he’s already finished cutting them into perfect little half slices. He wasn’t kidding about not needing your help.

When you've finished preparing the food, Papyrus pulls two bowls out of the cabinet and hands you one, insisting that you serve yourself first. After you both grab yourselves a serving, you sit down at the dining room table together.

“Where is everyone? Should we call them down to eat?”

Papyrus shakes his head, swallowing a bite of spaghetti. Where it goes, you have no idea, but you’re not sure if it’d be polite to ask. “NO ONE IS HOME EXCEPT SANS, WHO’S BUSY WORKING ON A PROJECT FOR WORK, OR THEY’D ALREADY BE HERE. EXCEPT FOR BREAKFAST, WHEN IT’S HARD TO WAKE MOST OF THEM UP, THEY USUALLY COME RUNNING AT THE FIRST WHIFF OF FOOD COOKING.” You giggle, remembering how tired some of them looked at the breakfast you’d shared with them before, and how not a single plate had food left over. Papyrus beams. “DOES THIS MEAN YOU’RE STARTING TO FEEL BETTER? I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED AT YOUR APARTMENT, BUT YOU DIDN’T SEEM TO BE OKAY AFTERWARDS.”

Your smile becomes strained, and you try to deflect, but Papyrus sees right through your bullshit. You sigh. “I spoke with my landlord about the fire. He seemed really excited about meeting me, even offered me back my full deposit, but only because he thought my insurance was going to cover the repairs.”

“WHAT HAPPENED? DID THEY DENY YOUR CLAIM?”

You shake your head and focus on your plate, no longer hungry enough to eat. “I didn’t even get to _make_ a claim. I didn’t know what renter’s insurance really was, so I cancelled it after the first month. I didn’t think it was important, and I was really trying to cut back on expenses…”

“DOES THIS MEAN THAT HIS INSURANCE IS GOING TO COVER IT? OR IS HE GOING TO PAY FOR IT HIMSELF?”

“He says that it’s _my_ fault the fire started, so it’s _my_ responsibility to pay for it. He’s planning on filing a lawsuit against me to get the money, but I don’t have enough to pay it all,” you say, thinking about your stash of emergency funds. It may be a considerably large stack of cash, but it’s nowhere near the kind of money you’d need to fix up the damage you saw this morning.

“BUT IT WASN’T YOUR FAULT, WAS IT?”

You shrug, defeated. “I plugged my charger into a melted outlet, and forgot about it. I’d been asking to get it fixed since November last year, but they never did it. They haven’t done anything I’ve asked them to do since I moved in. But because I broke the terms of the lease, I won’t have a leg to stand on in court.”

Papyrus shakes his head, letting out a sound that seemed too low and upset to be a sigh, and too polite to be a groan. He stands up, gathers both of your bowls, and takes them to the kitchen. Before you can get up to help him with the dishes, he waves you off. “YOU’RE NOT HELPING ME ANYMORE TODAY, SO GO WAIT FOR ME IN THE LIVING ROOM. WE’RE GOING TO WATCH A MOVIE. AND I REFUSE TO HEAR ANY ARGUMENT ABOUT IT!”

His commanding, yet polite tone sends you into another fit of giggles. You don’t dare disobey, curling up into the covers you’d left folded on the side of the couch the moment you step into the living room. A few moments later, you hear the sound of a dishwasher starting, and Papyrus emerges with two bowls, larger than the ones you’d eaten lunch with, piled with ice cream and chocolate sauce.

“SO, WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO WATCH?”

**.**

Blue comes home shortly after the second movie begins, and he joins you on the couch. You’d both decided to watch Marvel movies, starting with Captain Marvel, deciding to put binge watching the movies leading up to Avengers: Endgame on your to do list. You’ve already seen them all, but you’ve been told that watching them in chronological order instead of release order hits differently. When Captain America: The First Avenger is nearly finished, Black arrives home, wanting to join you too. You’re soon joined by Mutt, Edge, Stretch, and Red. Sans even came down from his room, once they all start to get loud.

“it’s amazing what you humans have to do to keep your bodies alive without magic,” Mutt says, as Tony Stark puts together that little circular arc reactor for his chest on the screen.

“SEEMS PRETTY WEAK TO ME,” Edge comments. “THIS RELIANCE ON TECHNOLOGY IS GOING TO BE YOUR DOWNFALL. WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF YOU’RE OUT IN THE WILD, AWAY FROM A LAB FULL OF TOOLS, EVEN ONES AS CRUDE AS THOSE?”

“DIE, PROBABLY,” Black adds. “YOU NEED MAGIC TO SURVIVE A BLAST LIKE THAT. HE’S LUCKY THEY HAD WHAT HE NEEDED TO BUILD THAT LITTLE THING.”

“IT’S NOT WEAK! MR. STARK WAS SMART TO COME UP WITH WHAT HE DID AND ESCAPE LIKE THAT,” Blue responds.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE ESCAPES? DID YOU JUST SPOIL THE MOVIE FOR ME?”

“IT’S BEEN OUT FOR LIKE A DECADE!”

“I’VE BEEN MEANING TO WATCH IT!”

Black and Blue argue back and forth, and you struggle to keep up with the movie. Edge tries to tell them to shut up, but he’s ignored, which only makes him mad and he starts to argue with them. Mutt and Red watch on in amusement, jumping in occasionally to rile them up more. Papyrus turns off the movie, but Stretch is the only one that seems to notice, waking up from his nap in the armchair to complain.

“hey, I was watching that.”

Sans suddenly claps his hands together once really loudly, bringing all conversation to a halt. “alright guys, cool it. don’t you all have things to do instead of sitting here arguing?”

Stretch gets up first, motioning for Red to follow him. “come on loser, we’ve got a ‘project’ to work on.”

“who the hell you callin’ a loser, loser?”

The rest of the group disperses, and Papyrus gives you a little goodbye pat on the head before heading to the kitchen with Blue to make dinner. Sans leaves with Red and Stretch, and Edge and Black go upstairs, leaving you alone with Mutt. You expect him to get up at any minute to leave, but when he finally does, it’s to join you on the couch.

“hello, little kitty,” he says, sliding up close enough to you that your hips touch. “wanna spend some time with the big, scary wolf?”

You roll your eyes, but offer him a smirk. You lean towards him and look upwards at him, attempting a seductive look. From the deep blood orange color rushing to his cheekbones, you can tell that it’s working. “Well that depends, has he been a bad boy?”

He recovers quickly, leaning closer into you, so close that the tip of your nose nearly touches his nasal bone. A sly grin spreads across his face. “oh, he’s been a _very_ bad boy.”

You pull back and boop his nasal bone with your finger. “I guess he better work on his behavior then, huh?”

A deep laugh escapes him, and he leans back against the couch, but keeps his leg resting against yours. “you really know how to tease, don’t ya?”

“It’s my specialty,” you answer honestly.

“bet I can do it better.”

Before you can answer him, he pulls you toward him, and you flinch, not expecting the sudden movement. When you open your eyes, you find yourself falling back onto a mattress, with Mutt laying over you. His knees rest on either side of your thighs, and his arms capture yours, effectively pining you beneath him. He leans in close, whispering into your ear, and you can feel his warm breath trickle down the side of your neck with his words.

“bet I can make you beg.”

Your heartbeat quickens from where you can hear it pounding in your ears, and your entire face goes warm with flush. Mutt takes one of his hands from where it was pining yours and slowly drags it down your waist and over your hip before gripping it with a squeeze--not hard enough to hurt, but rough enough to make you let out an involuntary gasp. Memories come rushing back to you from the night you'd almost shared with him, of Mutt pushing you up against the wall, of kissing him and rubbing yourself against him.

“bet I can make you scream.”

Your mouth hangs open in a silent moan, and Mutt brings his skull forward to press his teeth against it, opening his mouth and forcefully pushing his tongue against yours. You groan, pushing your tongue back against his, reveling in the fight for dominance over your mouths.

A feeling rises in your gut, but not the kind of feeling you’re used to. At least, not in this situation. You recognize it too late, and push Mutt away from you just in time to vomit all over his chest.

**Sans.**

Later that night, long after you’ve fallen asleep, a knock sounds outside Sans’ door. Getting up from his desk, where he’d passed out for the fourth time since he’d come up there that night, he opens the door to see Papyrus waiting for him.

“hey bro, what’s going on?”

Papyrus looks into the room behind him, frowns, and shakes his head in disappointment. “WELL, FOR ONE THING, YOUR ROOM IS A DISASTER ZONE. AGAIN. DIDN’T YOU AND I JUST SPEND THE ENTIRE WEEKEND IN HERE, CLEANING IT?”

Sans shrugs. “can’t help it. you know me, pap. about as helpful as a pile of bones when it comes to picking up after myself.”

Papyrus crosses his arms and begins scolding him, only to stop and take a deep breath. “NEVERMIND. THAT’S NOT WHY I’M HERE.”

Sans steps aside to let Papyrus in, and the two sit on his sheetless mattress. Papyrus glares at a pile of dirty socks, but doesn’t comment on them.

“what’s up?”

Papyrus then proceeds to tell him about the conversation he'd had with you about your landlord, and Sans finds himself with a fist full of his blanket, gripping it in anger. Just what the hell is wrong with humans, treating each other like this? Briefly, he finds himself irritated with you for cancelling your renter’s insurance, before remembering what Papyrus said about your melted outlet. The fire would never have started in the first place if your landlord had been doing his job!

“SANS, WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO? WE CAN’T JUST LET HER GO THROUGH THAT.” Papyrus holds onto his scarf, rubbing it in his palm, a habit he’d developed after receiving it from Sans years ago. “I WANT TO HELP HER, BUT I DON’T KNOW IF SHE’D ACCEPT IT.”

Sans sighs, squeezing his eye sockets shut. Why are humans always in need of help? Not that he really minds helping her, since he’s got the money to spare. But helping humans is becoming a nasty habit for his brother, and if he keeps bringing home wayward humans like stray dogs, he’s going to run out of funds eventually.

But how can he say no?

“don’t worry, paps. i’ll take care of her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Drag Me" - Tiny Little Houses


	6. I Don’t Even Know How To Name Chapters, There, I Said It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! The fucking plot has arrived

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking about just changing the chapter titles to song names, because I'm a nerd and have a whole soundtrack in mind for this fic. I'll have to find a few more songs for chapters that I don't have a song planned for, but it shouldn't be that hard.

Mutt doesn’t hold it against you.

In fact, he was so unbothered, he just threw his soiled shirt onto the floor and started kissing you again, almost desperately. So you slammed a pillow in his face and peaced the fuck out. You thought he might follow you, but luckily he didn't.

He might hold _that_ against you.

That night, as you’re brushing your teeth with your finger again, you tell yourself you’re hitting up a few stores the moment you get off work. You need to pick up more than just a toothbrush, considering you're going to have to borrow a set of clothing from your coworker tomorrow since all of yours were ruined. Rebecca doesn't quite wear your size, but she's the closest thing you've got to a friend at your office.

It takes you a while to fall asleep, despite how comfy the couch is. Anxiety plagues your mind with thoughts of your debt and inevitable court case. You have no idea what's going to happen to you, and it's depressing that all it took for you to fall this far was a phone charger and a busted outlet. You know what it's like to make it out of something with nothing more than the clothes on your back, but all the saving you've done since then has been for nothing. You're right back down at the bottom.

A tiny part of you wants to argue, to say that you have Papyrus now, and his family. That him and his brother have shown you kindness, and somehow with them, things might turn out okay.

You squash that tiny voice down. They can't help you forever, and you shouldn't expect them to. It's your own responsibility to take care of yourself. You'll figure it out. You have to.

Eventually, you do manage to fall asleep, but you're not out for very long before you're woken up by a sound, like the shuffling of feet.

Terrified, you freeze. You become very aware of your breathing, and purposely try to make it seem natural, like you're still asleep. After enough time passes to make you think that you didn't actually hear anything, you decide to test your luck by getting a glass of water. No one would come all the way out to the edge of town to break into a house, would they? Knowing your luck, they probably would, but your throat is dry and you’re willing to risk it.

Since you’ve already become accustomed to the layout of the kitchen, you don’t bother reaching for the lightswitch. You open a cabinet and reach for one of the glasses that you know are there, then hold it out towards the water dispenser on the fridge. As the glass fills, you become aware of a presence lurking to your left. Stiffening, you turn to see a figure standing creepily in front of the window. Since it’s so dark, and because they’re standing in front of the only light source in the kitchen, you can’t make out who it is.

But they do look familiar. Is that…?

“Sans? Is that you?”

The shadowed figure doesn’t answer. Seconds pass, and you start to worry. Could it be one of his cousins? Now that you think about it, a lot of them are around the same height.

“Red? Blue? Black?” Who came up with skeleton names, anyway?

The figure takes a step forward, and your heart is racing. Two glowing lights penetrate the darkness. You recognize them enough to know that they’re eyelights, like the ones you’d seen in some of the skeletons’ eye sockets, but you don’t recognize the colors that you see. One eyelight is red with a blue ring inside of it, and the other is a solid red.

“Who are you?”

The figure takes another step, and then another. He’s coming towards you, and you’re panicked. Turning on your heels, you rush to the light switch, hoping to throw whoever it is off, but when you turn back around, no one is there.

After finishing your glass of water, and cleaning up the mess you'd made when you spilled it all over the place, you take your pillow and blanket up to Papyrus’ room and sleep next to him on the floor.

That night you dream of skeletons, blood, and dust.

**.**

  
  


You’re jostled awake when you feel someone tripping over your feet, followed by a _thump._ You immediately jump up into a sitting position when you remember that you’d come to Papyrus’ room in the middle of the night, and reach forward to help the poor skeleton pick up the action figures that had fallen from the bookshelf he’d crashed into.

When everything is picked up, he turns to you. “ANNA, YOU STARTLED ME! IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT?”

“I got a little spooked last night, that’s all,” you answer, nodding. “I thought I saw something scary, and I didn’t wanna be alone, so… I-I hope that it’s alright. I didn’t really ask for permission.”

His expression softens. “I HAVE PLENTY OF ROOM, YOU DON’T NEED TO SLEEP ON THE FLOOR. NEXT TIME YOU GET SCARED, ANNA, YOU’RE MORE THAN WELCOME TO JOIN ME IN BED!”

“Oh, it’s alright Paps, I was plenty comfortable,” you assure him. Then what he was suggesting hits you, and your cheeks redden. “A-And anyways, wouldn’t that be a little inappropriate?”

Papyrus shakes his head. “NONSENSE, WE’RE FRIENDS, AND FRIENDS HAVE SLEEPOVERS ALL THE TIME. THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH--” The realization of what he was implying seems to hit him, and a bright orange blush fills his face. “O-OH, I SEE. WELL, THAT ISN’T SOMETHING YOU EVER HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT. I WOULD NEVER WISH TO PUT YOU IN A SITUATION YOU’D FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE IN.”

You giggle at him, and it warms your heart to hear that he wouldn’t want to put you in a position like that. You rub your hand against his arm comfortingly, then stand to collect your blanket and pillow before heading towards the door. Something pulls you back, and you glance down to see Papyrus’ hand on your waist.

“...UNLESS YOU WANT TO BE IN THAT SITUATION.”

It’s your turn to blush, and when you meet his gaze, you can see that he’s still orange. Is he implying…?

Just then, the door swings open. “hey bro, have you seen--”

Your eyes widen as Sans takes in the scene.

“...is this where you tell me it’s not what it looks like?”

Believe it or not, this wouldn’t even be the worst part of your morning. Sans laughs it off after you stumble through an explanation, and you get ready for work. You have to leave early so that you can swing by Rebecca’s to borrow an outfit appropriate for work, but you have no problem arriving on time. Your day takes a downward turn when your boss calls your team into the conference room for a “productivity meeting,” where he announces that because of the recent low sales, you’ll all be forced to work Saturdays until your team hits its quota.

“I can’t believe we’re all gonna be stuck working six days a week,” Rebecca says as you walk out of the office together after work. “I really wanted to visit my sister this weekend.”

“Is she getting any better?”

She shrugs, grimacing. “The doctors aren’t sure. She seems to be stabilizing, but the test results keep coming back inconclusive.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, patting her shoulder comfortingly. “Maybe if you talk to someone, they could see about--”

“Maybe if some of the women in the office spent less time _socializing,_ we’d be able to get more work done.”

Your face immediately scrunches up in disgust at the sound of your coworker’s voice. You both turn around to see Jeremy right behind you, an annoyed expression on his face. “Oh fuck off, truck nuts,” you answer him. “We all know you spend half your day in the bathroom taking massive dumps and texting your girlfriend. Does she know how poor your work ethic is? Or did you forget to tell her that like you forgot to tell your wife?”

His face reddens in anger, but you’re already walking away. Rebecca is quick on your heels.

“That was really harsh, Anna, what if he--”

“Oh no it wasn’t,” you say, interrupting her before she tells you that what you said was going too far, or that you could get into trouble. “That man has a comment for everything that happens around here, and most of it is misogynistic and repulsive. I’m not afraid to rip someone a new asshole when they deserve it. And he _does_ deserve it.”

She lifts her hands up in defeat. “Whatever you say, but if HR asks, all I did was witness it.”

“I’ll make sure to let them know that you called him truck nuts,” you say jokingly.

“I did not! That was you!” You both laugh, and her gaze shifts over to her left, and you follow it. Jeremy had walked over to his truck when you’d walked away, and now he sits in there glaring at the both of you. You flip him off.

After waving Rebecca goodbye from your car and backing out of your parking space, you start to list off everything you need to pick up before going back to the skeleton house. Clothes you can get at the cheap outlet store not far from where you work, but you’re also going to need to grab a new menstrual cup, toothbrush, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, loofa… everything. Most of what you need you should be able to get between the outlet mall and a department store, but you’re also going to have to stop to grab your mail.

You stop by the outlet mall first since it’s the closest and grab enough clothes to last you a full week, as well as a few bras and a cheap pack of cotton panties. When you hit the department store to grab the rest of your essentials, you almost grab a pint of ice cream so that you can use the excuse that you don’t have time to stop at your apartment to get your mail before it melts, but you grab a pack of oreos instead. Your problems won’t go away with excuses, afterall.

With the back seat of your car really loaded past its limit, you make your way over to your apartment.

The moment you walk in, you can hear the construction going on. Loud drilling resounds throughout the lobby, and workers are hauling charred wood down the stairs and out into the large dumpster you’d seen parked outside. Carol is sitting behind the desk with a pair of pink earplugs in her ears, but she takes them out when she sees you approach. She grins up at you from her seat, evidently unaware of the drama between you and the landlord. 

“Hey Anna, did you get the message Mr. Bates left for you? He’s free, if you’re ready to speak to him.”

Message? You pull your phone out of your pocket to find that it’s dead. Since you had it with you when you went to sleep in Papyrus’ room, it didn’t have the opportunity to charge on the spare charger that Sans had plugged in beside the couch for you.

“Ah, my phone died,” you tell her, nervousness creeping in. “Do you happen to know what he wants to speak about?”

She shrugs. “I’m sorry, hun. He didn’t give me any details.” You thank her and head towards his office, but before you reach it, she lets out a little gasp. “Oh, I almost forgot!” You turn back to face her and make your way back to the counter. “I’ve got your mail for you. Mr. Bates wanted me to give it to you in person, and to ask that you start having it forwarded to your new address.”

Yikes. Next thing to hit the cash reserves: the cost of a PO Box.

You thank her again after taking the mail from her outstretched hand and knock on your landlord’s office door. Not even a moment passes before the door is opened and you’re ushered inside. Mr. Bates eagerly leads you to the same chair you’d sat in the day before and quickly takes his own seat across from you. Is it just your imagination, or is his skin a little pink? Did he just get out of the shower, or is that sweat on his nearly bald head?

“So, you got my message? Was that alright with you? Are we good now?”

Your anxiety starts to wane as the realization that the man in front of you is afraid, and confusion takes its place. “My phone died. What message are you talking about?”

Mr. Bates pulls out your file from a drawer on his right, and pulls out the last page of your lease agreement. “I’ve waived all the fees that you owe. You’ll be getting back your full deposit, as well as a refund for the rest of this month’s rent. Utilities have been transferred back into my name, and you’re only going to be liable for the bills up until the night of the fire. I’ve also taken care of the contractor’s fee for taking care of all your ruined furniture. So are we good now?”

“What do you mean? I thought you were going to take me to court?” You have to resist the urge to slam your palm onto your face. _Don’t remind him that he was planning to sue you!_ “I-I mean, I don’t owe you anything? Why?”

Mr. Bates gives you a look filled with as much confusion as you’re sure you’re giving him. “Your boyfriend swung by my house last night. Didn’t he tell you?”

“Boyfriend?”

“Yeah, some skeleton monster guy,” he says, getting up. “But look, I don’t wanna keep talking about it. If you didn’t know, take that up with him. But you’ve got your mail, and I’ve shown you the documents stating that you’re free of the lease and no longer accountable for anything. You don’t need anything else from me. I think it’s best that you leave.”

He opens the door to his office for you, and you walk out. You wave goodbye to Carol, and walk to your car in a daze. Boyfriend? Skeleton? Did one of your new friends stalk your landlord and threaten him? You don’t remember telling anyone about what happened except for Papyrus… could he have done something to Mr. Bates that made him change his mind? You remember his reaction when you told him about what happened, and how he’d reacted in the hospital. Could he have been that upset about your situation?

Something in your gut tells you that there’s no way that Papyrus would do something like that. But what about his brother? He’d seemed upset at the hospital too. If Papyrus told him, would he be capable of threatening your landlord?

Your gut says yes.

When you slide into your car after throwing your mail into the passenger’s seat, you notice that most of it is junk mail, but one letter stands out. A blue envelope with a white caduceus symbol on it sits on top of the others. Groaning, you grab for it.

“Let’s see what the damage is,” you say as you rip it open. The first sheet of paper is a long letter that you don’t bother to read, and the second sheet is the bill you remember seeing the other day during your stay. It’s much the same, except they’d elected to charge you for another night because you hadn’t signed out before leaving. Now the total is… 

_What?_

You throw the bill into the passenger’s seat, not bothering to put it back into the envelope. You race back to the skeleton house, barely bothering to keep an eye out for cops as you go over the speed limit. You’re pushing your luck, you know it, but the danger of getting a ticket or having your car crap out on you in the middle of the road as you push it to the limit aren’t important to you. The only thing you can think about is getting to Papyrus and his brother before you lose your mind.

What did they just do for you?

When you finally reach the skeleton house, you don’t bother to pay attention where you park. Under the tree? That’s fine. That branch looks safe today. You also don’t bother to grab any of the items you’d purchased to bring inside, opting instead to full on sprint inside without a glance back to check if you’d remembered to lock the car. You probably didn’t, but you’ve probably got nothing to worry about considering the only people for the next mile or so are apparently _rich._

You pound up the steps of the front porch and shove open the door, causing it to hit the wall. You wince at the sound, but push it out of your thoughts so you can keep the same energy going.

You scream out the names of the offending skeletons, hoping they’d hear you, although there’s no telling if they can with a house this large. “PAPYRUS! SANS!”

As if aware you’d come looking for them, Papyrus nervously inches his way out of the kitchen shortly after you see Sans start to descend the staircase. Other nosey skeletons come out to see what the commotion is about, but the only ones on your mind are the two you’d called.

When the two skeletons finally reach you, you don’t say anything for a few moments. You just stare up at them, face hot with anger. You’re intent on completely going off, but when you finally talk, all of that heat dies down to a bitter cold, and your voice breaks.

“You c-can’t just… you can’t just do that!” You try to pull out the crumpled hospital bill from your pocket, where you’d stuffed it before dashing out of your car, but instead of handing it to them, it just falls to the floor. “This isn’t your responsibility! _I’m_ not your responsibility!”

Papyrus reaches forward as if to try to comfort you, but seems to think better of it and lowers his arm. “I TOLD YOU, IT’S BECAUSE WE’RE FRIENDS--”

“We barely know each other!” He flinches, and you instantly feel sorry for snapping at him. You lower your voice and try again. You don’t want to be angry with him, even if you feel overwhelmed right now. “We only met less than two weeks ago, and you’ve already done so much for me, so why… why did you do this for me?”

Sans picks up the bill from the floor and smoothes it back out. On the paper, beneath the large sum you’d been asked to pay, were the words that made you go into an emotional spiral.

**[Paid In Full]**

“look kid, we have plenty of money, this doesn’t mean anything to us,” Sans answers you, handing you back the paper. “we couldn’t really stand to see everything coming down so hard on you, and we were in a position to be able to do something about it, so we did.”

You take the bill from him, crumpling it up again and shoving it back into your pocket. “This may not mean anything to you, but it means everything to me,” you say, feeling your eyes start to water. You try to hold them back, but one falls anyway. “You just decided to help me? And you don’t want anything in return?”

You can hear the sound of some of the other skeletons shuffling, but none of them say anything, so you don’t pay attention to them. Right now, it’s just you, Papyrus, and Sans inside a bubble.

“why would we want something in return? there isn’t anything you could offer us. we don’t need anything from you.”

You can tell that he didn’t say that to hurt you, but the sting comes nonetheless. You finally seem to ground yourself when a snide comment reaches your ears from one of the skeletons in your audience.

“oh i bet i could think of a few things.”

You turn to face Red, who stood to the side and slightly behind Sans. Your anger comes flooding back into you, and you get a little snarky in response. “If any of those things are like what I’ve already experienced, it probably won’t be worth remembering.”

“hehe, got some sass on ya, ey girlie?” His grin widens and his teeth separate, then a pierced cherry red tongue slips out. He slides it along his top row of teeth, giving an extra lick to his golden fang. “i kinda like that.”

“Well don’t get any ideas, I’m not a prostitute,” you say to him with a sneer. “Or should I say, not _your_ prostitute. I’d be happy with a sugar daddy that knows how to clean his room.”

A cackle resounds from Edge, who’s standing beside him. “I TOLD YOU TO PICK UP YOUR FUCKING SOCKS!”

“Oh there’s a lot more than fucking socks in there. There was an entire ecosystem in there that’s more cultured than I am.” Edge continues to cackle, and the tension you feel in your shoulders seems to lessen. Red rolls his eyelights, but doesn’t add any more suggestive comments.

“he makes a pretty good point though,” Mutt adds from the stairs. All heads turn to face him, but he shrugs off the attention. “i mean, calling it prostitution seems a bit harsh, but it wouldn’t be a bad thing to have a little sugar baby runnin’ around here. ‘specially with the heat comin’ up and everythin’.”

“don’t remind me,” Sans says, letting out an exhausted breath. “but we can’t ask her to do something like that, and even if she would be interested, how could she possibly handle all of our heats? we’d need like three or four ‘sugar babies’ just to keep up.”

“oh she can keep up alright,” Red adds. “believe me, i remember.”

“GROSS,” Blue comments from his spot on the couch next to his brother. “SHE’S NOT A SEX DOLL! WE SHOULDN’T BE TALKING ABOUT HER LIKE THAT!”

“You’re absolutely right, Blue,” you say loudly, demanding the attention of everyone in the room before they start breaking out into a debate over whether it is or is not ethical to turn you into a one woman brothel. “Thank you for considering my feelings.” Sans at least has the decency to look embarrassed, but Mutt and Red seem to shrug it off. “Anyways, although I’m not opposed to sex work, this all seems pretty damn sketchy. Someone makes a low brow sex joke at my expense, and suddenly you’re discussing hiring me to fuck you on the regular to pay back my debt to you? Are you all that desperate for sex?”

“SOME OF US ARE, YES,” Papyrus says disapprovingly. “BUT I FOR ONE AM OPPOSED TO THE IDEA. WHATEVER TWO CONSENTING ADULTS DO IS BETWEEN THEM, WHETHER THERE’S MONEY INVOLVED OR NOT, BUT I DON’T THINK IT’S RIGHT TO LORD THIS ‘DEBT’ OVER YOU IN EXCHANGE FOR SEX.”

“I AGREE,” Blue agrees.

“ditto,” Stretch adds. “you guys are some kind of fucked up.”

“LANGUAGE!” Blue scolds him.

“you didn’t get mad at anyone else for saying bad words!”

“I’M NOT ANYONE ELSE’S BROTHER!”

Stretch shrugs. “the point still stands. i can’t believe you even suggested that, mutt. well actually, i can believe it, but i’m very disappointed in you, sans, for entertaining that even for a second.”

Sans rolls his eyelights. “please. i don’t need to be scolded by you on morality.”

“MUTT WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE HEATS THOUGH, STRETCH,” Black adds from the doorway to the kitchen, where he stands wearing an apron, probably from helping Papyrus in the kitchen. Or more likely, from taking over the kitchen. “I CAN FEEL THE NEXT ONE COMING, AND IT’S GOING TO COME FASTER WITH HER HERE ALL THE TIME. THERE’S NO TELLING WHAT WE’LL DO TO HER IF SHE’S STILL LIVING HERE WHEN IT HITS.”

Now _that_ sounds terrifying. What they’ll do to you? Like they’ll turn into a rabid pack of animals or something? “Excuse me, but are you talking about heats as in… like a dog’s heat? Or like rabbits?” The thought of all of them chasing after you like animals in heat scares you, but despite that fear, a small part of you is turned on. You refuse to let that small part of you override your good sense.

“it’s a bit like that, yeah,” Sans answers you. “but not quite. it’s a monster thing. we all go into a heat every once in a while. the amount of heats we go through, and the duration of those heats, depends on the type of monster and the stage of life they’re in. monsters start going into heats when they reach maturity, and when they become mated, the amount of heats they go into and the duration will increase until they conceive. after they conceive, it starts to lessen more throughout the years until it eventually stops at old age. skeleton monsters have a fairly long heat that occurs every four to five months.”

Red makes fake snoring sounds as Sans wraps up his explanation, and then pretends to wake up when he finishes. “you done, grandpa? way to make somethin’ as hot as heat sex sound borin’ as hell.” Red tries to get closer to you, but Edge stops him from getting much further than a couple of steps. “listen sweetheart, heats are the best thin’ a monster can experience. or the most annoyin’, if you're like classic over ‘ere and can’t get a date.” He gestures to Sans, who lets out an annoyed grunt. “imagine havin’ constant, mind blowin’ sex, for hours on end.”

That sounds… hot, actually, not that you’d ever admit that to him. By the grin spreading across his face, you can tell he already picked up on it. Before he can say anything though, you rush ahead to ask more questions. “So is it like, compulsive? Instinctual? Hard to resist? Because it seemed like that’s what Black was implying.”

“he’s right,” Mutt answers you. “it’s more than just bein’ horny. if you’re here when we go into heat, there’s no way we’d be able to stay away from you. we might even fight over you, if we go too long without relief. the deeper we get into the heat, the worse it’s gonna be.”

The thought of these skeletons fighting over you scares you, but it also turns you on. You’re loathe to admit it, but hot, desperate sex is something you can get behind.

“OH MY GOD, YOU’RE INTO THAT, AREN’T YOU?”

At Black’s outburst, your face immediately lights up with heat, and although you can’t see yourself, you know you’ve just turned into a bright red tomato. “O-Oh my god,” you say in shock, unsure how to deny it, in complete disbelief that you’d just been put on fucking blast.

“she totally fuckin’ is! no way, we’ve gotta hire her, classic,” Red says, laughing. Then he slips past his brother and steps closer to you, dropping his voice real deep, with a touch of husky. “i’d love ta see that ass shake full time, baby.”

Even though you know that line would never, _ever_ work on you under normal circumstances, you were already embarrassed and horny, and you can’t resist the small whimper that comes out when you feel the tenor of his voice ring through your ears like a purr.

“THAT’S ENOUGH, ALL OF YOU,” Papyrus says, waving his arms around. “ALL OF YOU MAY LEAVE. IF ANNA WISHES TO DO IT, THEN THAT’S UP TO HER, BUT SHE DOESN’T NEED ANY OF YOU HERE TO MAKE A DECISION!”

Blue and Stretch are the first to leave, followed quickly by Edge and Red, who has to be dragged out by his brother. Black is already gone, having already left to check up on the food. Mutt pretends to fall asleep, but Papyrus is having none of his shit, and shoos him away.

Awkward silence fills the air as you stand in front of Papyrus and Sans, the people you’d originally stormed in to confront.

You try to steer the conversation back. “I have to do something to pay you back for this. Please.”

Sans sighs, rubbing his temple with his index and middle finger. Papyrus looks away, a conflicted expression on his face. “look kid, i already told ya, i don’t want anything from you.”

“But Sans, I can’t just--”

“She’s Not Going To Let It Go, Sans,” Papyrus says, at a surprisingly normal volume. “Are You, Anna?” You nod, and Papyrus nods back. “Right. Okay. Are You Interested In Becoming Our ‘Sugar Baby’, Then? If Not, We Can Try To Think Of Something Else.”

“paps, we really can’t ask that of her,” Sans says, clearly exasperated of the subject.

“But We Have No Other Choice, Do We?” Papyrus gestures towards you. “She’s Stubborn! What Are We Going To Do, Get Her A Hotel During Our Heat? She’s Barely Letting Us House Her Here, Do You Really Think She’d Let Us Get Her A Place To Stay Somewhere Else? And Then What, We Just Kick Her Out?”

Sans doesn’t say anything, instead turning to you, waiting for an answer.

It takes you a few moments to think it over, which they patiently give to you. Sex workers make a lot of money, don’t they? So the work you’d be doing could actually feasibly pay them back for your medical bills. And you _like_ sex. Even bad sex, which you’ve had your fair share of during your near weekly stints at the local bar. Is there really any downside to this?

“Do I have to start calling you guys ‘Daddy?’ Because I am not going to do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Get Around - Dragonette


	7. An Arrangement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go over what you should be expecting during the heat, and Sans introduces you to his basement dwelling "cousins."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to change up the summary of this fic, I think this suits it better.

After dinner, you and Sans remain in the dining room to discuss the details of your “arrangement.” Some of the skeleboys are nosey and need to be chased out by Papyrus, and it causes you to giggle. You get the feeling that he has to do that pretty often.

“so, as i said before, our heats come every four to five months, with our next one coming up in about a month,” Sans starts, wasting no time. He sits directly across from you, elbows resting on the table in front of him, arms crossed. Papyrus starts picking up the plates around you, taking them into the kitchen to be rinsed and loaded into the dishwasher. You’d offered to help, but he’d refused it. It feels weird to watch him work without helping, and it makes you uncomfortable, like you _should_ be helping. “it’ll last a while, too. heats usually last anywhere from three days to a week for most monsters, but ours can last up to two weeks if it’s uh, been a while.”

“That long?” you ask incredulously. “I thought that once you… you know, _finish,_ it would be over.”

“oh no, we’re not that easily satiated,” he says, chuckling. “it’ll probably take at least a few rounds to keep us from going animalistic, but even then, we won’t be done. we’ll be pawing at you every hour until the heat passes, no matter how tired or satisfied we are. hell, i’ll come back _harder_ when you satisfy me, ‘cause i know you’ll be able to do it again.” You break out in a blush at his devilish grin, and he shoots you a wink. “i’m kidding. mostly. not really. but what i mean to say is, it’s going to be a full time gig. long hours, double and triple shifts… it’s going to be brutal. you don’t have the endurance of a monster like we do.”

“Then why not just ask a monster? Don’t you know plenty of monsters that would be willing to do it?”

He shrugs. “monsters don’t usually do something like this, hiring someone to get through their heats i mean. _especially_ if it means passing them around like a keg at a college party.” You grimace at his description, and he gives you an apologetic look. “sorry kid, i didn’t mean it like that. it’s just not normal for us.”

“How do monsters usually go through their heat, if they’re not bonded?”

“with lots of sex, honestly,” he says, laughing at your _duh_ expression. “sometimes we hook up with people we know, or monsters that are going through their own heat. but most of the time, we just kind of tough it out and get real friendly with our hand.”

Sans uses his hand to give a jerking off motion just in time for Papyrus to reemerge from the kitchen. He gives him a light smack to the back of his head, making you giggle. “SO CRUDE!”

“paps, no, i was only demonstrating!”

Papyrus just shakes his head, disappointed. “YOU’RE JUST AS BAD AS RED SOMETIMES.”

Sans gasps dramatically, pretending to be offended. “you take that back.”

“NO. I DON’T THINK I WILL,” Papyrus huffs.

You can’t stop giggling at their banter, and Sans gives you a grin when he sees you nearly in tears. “guess someone has to be the adult, huh?”

“YEP, AND THAT’S WHY I’M HERE.” Papyrus sits next to his brother on the other side of the table, diagonal from you. “SO, WHAT ARE WE DISCUSSING? HEAT ETIQUETTE? NEEDS? AFTERCARE?”

“I was asking about what monsters usually do during their heats, since our situation is apparently different from the norm?” You actually have a lot of questions about this, so you’re glad that they’re both here to help you fill in the blanks. “Also, how is it that you’re all going into heat at the same time? Is there like, a skeleton mating season or something?”

Sans laughs. “what, like skeletons come out of hiding to repopulate like bunnies in the spring?”

Papyrus groans at his brother’s antics. Clearly, now that he’s here to be the adult, Sans is free to act like a clown. “WE’RE SYNCED. WHEN MONSTERS LIVE TOGETHER FOR A WHILE, THEIR HEATS SYNC UP TO MATCH. PAIRED MONSTERS WILL SYNC UP FOR A BETTER CHANCE AT CONCEPTION, BUT MONSTERS THAT WOULD BE SEEN AS RIVALS TO EACH OTHER…”

“like us,” Sans adds. “since we’re all related, and in no way attracted to each other. we’re technically ‘competing’ for mates.”

Papyrus nods. “WE SYNC UP BECAUSE OUR BODIES ARE TRYING TO GET US TO ONE UP EACH OTHER. THE FIRST ONE TO GO INTO HEAT GETS THE MATE, OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT. IT’S LEFTOVER INSTINCTUAL HABITS FROM A LONG FORGOTTEN PERIOD OF MONSTER HISTORY.”

You’re reminded of different animal behaviors you’ve seen explained in nature documentaries you’d seen, and a realization hits you, leaving you a little worried. “Does that mean you’ll be really aggressive towards each other, and possessive of me during the heat?”

“unfortunately, yes,” Sans answers. “it’s something that we’ll probably have to figure out a solution for. we’ll be less aggressive if we’ve had sex shortly before the heat starts, but if it hasn’t happened for a while, some of us could get pretty… grabby.”

“NOT ALL OF US ARE COMPLETE BRUTES, I CAN ASSURE YOU,” Papyrus says, giving his brother a narrowed look. “SOME OF US ARE GENTLEMEN.”

“paps, you almost busted down the front door when a jogger passed by.”

“IT’S BEEN A WHILE!”

Despite the heaviness of the task laid in front of you, you think you’ll be alright. Despite these warnings of possible aggressiveness, you can’t bring yourself to believe that anyone in this house would willingly try to harm you, or force you into something that you’d be uncomfortable with. Except for Red, probably.

“Does this mean I won’t be able to go to work?”

“honestly, it’ll be a miracle if paps lets you leave the house.”

Papyrus smacks his brother’s arm. “I! AM! A GENTLEMAN!”

Sans tries scooting away from his brother’s assault, but he can’t manage it. “but seriously, there’s no way that you’ll be able to handle all of us on top of a full time job.”

“Especially now that we’re stuck doing Saturdays,” you grumble. “Guess I’ll have to find something part time, or flexible with vacation days.”

“saturdays? what? no, anna, you don’t need to work at all. that’s the whole point of me being your ‘sugar daddy,’ ya know?”

You shake your head, absolutely declining that offer. You’re already indebted, you don’t need to be dependent as well. “What am I going to do between your heats? I can’t just live off of you guys. I’m being hired to pay you back, not for a paycheck. I still need to make money to pay for food, and to save up for a new place and furnishings and stuff.”

“YOU ABSOLUTELY CAN LIVE OFF OF US,” Papyrus says adamantly. “AND FOOD ISN’T AN ISSUE. GETTING GROCERIES FOR TWELVE ISN’T GONNA BE ANY DIFFERENT FROM GETTING GROCERIES FOR ELEVEN.”

“and besides, who said you won’t be making any money? i’m not going to just not pay you what you’re owed.”

“That’s ridiculous! How am I supposed to be able to pay you back if _you’re_ paying _me?”_

Sans shrugs. “well, if you’re really concerned about what you’re going to be doing in between heats, why don’t you put in a little overtime?”

You and Papyrus both exchange confused glances, not understanding. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, SANS?”

“you’re not required to do anything outside of our heats, but if you wanted to make some more money, a few of our cousins might want fuck ya sooner than that,” Sans explains, and then it dawns on you what he’s trying to get at.

“Oh, so then the heats won’t be so bad!”

“exactly.”

“WHAT A SURPRISINGLY GOOD IDEA, SANS!”

“don’t act like i don’t have some pretty _hot_ ideas from time to time.”

“YOU DO AND THEN YOU RUIN THEM WITH YOUR BAD TASTE IN HUMOR.”

**.**

Later that night, as you’re fluffing up your pillow and getting ready to settle down for bed, Sans interrupts you.

“i know you’re trying to get to bed and all, but i figure you should meet the others.”

The others? Oh, that’s right. You’ve heard multiple times that this household has eleven skeleton monsters living inside it, not eight. “Where are the other three, the ones I haven’t met?”

“they try to keep to themselves, mostly. they’re not as friendly as the rest of us are,” He nods his head towards the kitchen, and you get up to follow him. He leads you through to the back of the house before coming to a stop at a doorway you’d noticed before, but always thought was some kind of storage room.

“If you think Black and Edge are friendly, you’ve got me feeling a little nervous about these three,” you admit.

Sans opens the door, revealing a dark staircase with a gentle light emanating from somewhere deep within. “oh geez, they never keep this light on,” he says, reaching past you to flip the switch. A bare lightbulb illuminates the stairs from its place in front of the doorway, and you can see all the way down. It’s surprisingly not very creepy, despite being a basement. “don’t worry kid, they won’t do anything to hurt you. and for the record, you won’t be… ‘servicing’ them. we tried to talk to them about it, but they didn’t seem interested. so there’s no reason to get yourself worked up about them.”

You nod your head, a little relieved to know that the body count for the upcoming heat will be less than what it could have been. Eight is still a lot of people to keep happy, but you’re definitely glad that number isn’t eleven.

When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you take a look around. There’s a total of four doors lining the room, one of which is open and revealing a bathroom within. A flatscreen is mounted against the back wall and facing a large couch, and underneath it is an entertainment center crowded with XBOX games, empty soda cans, and a few books. You cringe, noticing that some of the discs have been left out of their cases. Animals.

Sans makes a sound like he's clearing his throat, despite not having one. “trap, axe, dusty, i’ve brought down the human, if you’re interested in meeting her.”

One of the doors opens immediately, revealing a skeleton taller than any of the ones you’ve seen, and really slim too. He steps forward excitedly, almost bouncing on his heels. When the light hits him, you hold back a small gasp of surprise.

You’re not sure how he’s holding them up without a nose or ears, probably some invisible tape, but this skeleton is wearing _glasses!_ You’d never thought that a skeleton would need glasses, since they don’t have any eyes, but considering the small size of his sockets, he probably really needs them. When the monster grins at you in a greeting, you can also see that he’s wearing braces on his almost straight teeth. Can a skeleton’s teeth grow crooked? You’d imagine so, since a human’s can. You know that for a fact--your bottom molars were a pain in the ass when your adult set grew in. But from what it looks like, the braces seem to be working well for him.

“HELLO, HUMAN! I’M PA-TRAP, IT’S NICE TO MEET YOU,” the skeleton says, reaching his hand forward to shake yours. You don’t hesitate before grabbing it, giving him your name and exchanging pleasantries. “I’M TERRIBLY SORRY THAT WE HAVEN’T MET SOONER, WE’RE JUST NOT VERY SOCIAL SKELETONS.”

Trap looks away, a slight frown tugging at his mouth. You don’t feel like he’s telling the truth, but you don’t mention it, since it isn’t your business to pry. You hadn’t noticed, but while you were talking with Trap, the other two closed doors had come open and two more skeletons had emerged from them.

“anna, this is axe,” Sans says, gesturing to his right. The skeleton looks a lot like him, even wearing a similar hoodie, if a bit more dingy and beat up, and a lopsided black beanie. One of his eye sockets is missing an eyelight, and the other seems to be what you think is the magical skeleton version of bloodshot. He gives you a curt nod before moving to stand next to Trap behind you. “and this is dusty.” To his left stands another skeleton that looks just like him, they could be triplets! And with the same blue jacket, but faded to an almost grey color. But those eyelights, the red and blue ones… you remember them.

“I remember you, you scared the shit out of me last night! I thought you were going to like… _get_ me or something.”

Sans’ eye sockets widen in surprise, and he looks over to Dusty as if asking for confirmation. He just shrugs. “i was thirsty. it’s not my fault you were up wandering around with the lights off, getting spooked.”

You frown. You’re pretty sure that when someone runs towards you in the dark menacingly, it’s on purpose.

“well anyways,” Sans continues. “anna here is going to be sticking around here on a more permanent level. i brought her down to introduce you, since you’re bound to run into each other sooner or later.”

“i doubt it,” a deep voice sounds from right behind you. Goosebumps rise up along your arms, and you remember that Axe had walked around to stand by his brother. Even after identifying the voice, the goosebumps stick around. “sorry girlie, we’re not exactly gregarious.”

“WELL, I THINK IT WOULD BE NICE TO HAVE A VISITOR EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE,” Trap says. You turn around to give him a grin, and he gives you one back. You really like this skeleton, he reminds you a lot of Papyrus, which makes sense because they’re cousins. And they look a lot alike, too.

“Since I’ll be living here, I’d be happy to see you anytime.”

He beams, much to his brother’s displeasure. You get the feeling that Axe doesn’t appreciate your offer of keeping them company, and you’re unsure if your attempts at friendship are going to result in making him angry. He already looks pretty scary, with his bloodshot eye socket and seemingly permanent irritated expression.

“i heard about your arrangement, little rabbit,” Axe says with a slightly threatening tone. “none of us want to be a part of it, so when that time comes, stay the fuck away from our basement, ‘kay?”

“yeah,” Dusty adds. You jump, not expecting him to be right next to you. “wouldn’t wanna break our new toy on the first try, huh?”

You’re pulled away from them by Sans, who starts leading you back to the stairs. “well that was fun, can’t wait to not do that again.”

“GOODBYE, ANNA!”

“See ya later, Trap!”

“DID YOU HEAR THAT SANS!? SHE WANTS TO SEE US LATER!”

“well that’s just great, bro,” Axe grumbles.

**.**

When you return from work the next day, you’re surprised to see Papyrus and Blue waiting for you in the living room.

“What are you two doing home so early? Didn’t you say that you go to the gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays?” You set your stuff down on the floor beside the couch, but before it hits the floor, it’s immediately scooped up by Blue.

“WE DECIDED TO MOVE IT TO TOMORROW,” Papyrus answers you. “WE WERE TOO EXCITED ABOUT YOUR SURPRISE!”

“Surprise?”

Blue grabs your hand, pulling for you to follow him, which you happily do. Papyrus trails behind you. You’re led up past the second floor and up to the third, then taken down the hallway to the door at the end, where you come to a stop. You’d been given a tour by Papyrus before, but he’d neglected to show you where this door leads. Curious, you reach for the handle even before Blue does. Inside it is another set of stairs.

“Just how big is this house?” you ask, flabbergasted. They both chuckle and usher you in, so you climb the stairs. Just when you thought you’d gotten away from this bullshit exercise.

When you reach the top, a bright ray of sunshine hits you right in the eyes, and you can’t see a thing. You step forward carefully, trying not to bump into anything, but the space in front of you is empty. You lift your arm up to block the light, and when you do, you manage to take in the room.

Old, dingy boxes line three of the four walls, pushed out of the way. On the fourth wall, located directly facing the top of the stairs, is a large bay window, showcasing a bright orange sunset. Beneath it is a queen bed, adorned with a beautiful deep navy bed set and pillows. A nightstand sits beside it on one side, a matching dresser and vanity mirror on the other. Atop the dresser is the bag you’d brought in the previous night full of your recently bought clothing, as well as the rest of your belongings, which you’d stuffed inside for convenience.

“WE WEREN’T SURE IT WOULD BE APPROPRIATE TO GO THROUGH YOUR THINGS, SO WE DIDN’T PUT YOUR CLOTHES AWAY FOR YOU,” Blue says, gesturing over to the dresser. “I HOPE THAT’S OKAY!”

“Is all of this for me?”

You didn’t think you spoke loud enough for them to hear you, but Blue gives you an answer. “OF COURSE! HOW ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO LIVE HERE WITHOUT A ROOM OF YOUR OWN? YOU’RE CERTAINLY NOT GOING TO BE SLEEPING IN MY BED! P-Papy Already Said No…”

“You guys, I can’t accept this, you can’t--”

“WE CAN, AND WE DID. SO SHUT UP.”

Blue gasps at Papyrus’ words, and you admit, you’re shocked yourself. Your mouth drops open in shock, expecting him to blush and apologize or something, but instead _he_ gives _you_ an expectant look.

He’s not about to let you refuse their generosity again.

Tears well up in your eyes, and it’s like all their kindness is overwhelming you at once. There’s no way that you can accept this, but he’s giving you no choice.

“Thank you,” you say behind a choked back sob.

He gives you a soft smile, and his stern expression disappears as fast as it came.

“You’re Welcome, Anna.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3k hits?? 200 kudoz?? Yo this was originally just gonna be a shit post but y'all got me feeling all kinds of dedicated. Thank you for the love, it means so much to me. <3 I'm going to make this the best damn self indulgent shit post you ever did see. You know what? Y'all are getting some smut next chapter. Prepare thy undies


End file.
